


Game of Thrones One-shots, Drabbles and Headcanons

by fallatyourfeet



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Angst, Assault, Battle, Blood, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 50,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23046223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallatyourfeet/pseuds/fallatyourfeet
Summary: A collection of fanfics inspired by GRRM
Relationships: Dolorous Edd/Reader, Edd Tollett/Reader, Eddard Stark/Reader, Gendry Waters/Reader, Jaime Lannister/Reader, Jon Snow/Reader, Jorah Mormont/Reader, Ned Stark/Reader, Oberyn Martell/Reader, Podrick Payne/Reader, Ramsay Bolton/Reader, Robb Stark/Reader, Sandor Clegane/Reader, Sansa Stark/Reader, Tommen Baratheon/Reader, Tormund Giantsbane/Reader, Tyrion Lannister/Reader, Yara Greyjoy/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 152





	1. Introduction

Just a collection of Reader insert fanfics inspired by GRRM's Game of Thrones 

Hope you enjoy!


	2. Unexpected (Jon Snow x Reader) Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Jon Snow x reader imagine, where Jon finds himself having unexpected feelings for the reader.
> 
> Warnings: Quite angsty, mentions of violence and hinting at sexual assault.
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments and feedback, it will help me to improve.

After Ygritte, Jon thought he would never, ever feel something for another woman, let alone, love again. How wrong he was. Falling for (YN) was about the easiest thing he had ever done, his mind unable to comprehend it.

Lady (YN) had arrived at Castle Black with his sister Sansa, she came through the gates battered and bruised, looking as though she was ready to fall from her horse, Podrick struggling to keep her upright as he guided the horse along. Overwhelmed at the sight of his sister, Jon embraced her, welcoming the feeling of having family in his arms once more, Sansa was the first to pull away and Jon immediately noticed the urgency in her eyes. Hastily, she introduced both Brienne of Tarth and Podrick Payne, Jon then gestured towards (YN) and before he had the chance to speak, Sansa said, "This is Lady (YN), she helped me escape from Winterfell, with Theon". Before continuing, Sansa's voice cracked, "She is not well, she has a terrible fever and has been in and out of consciousness for days now". Jon could see the worry in Sansa's eyes, telling him just how fond of her, his sister must be.

Walking over to (YN), Jon turned back to Sansa and said, "Try not to worry, we can help her now", reaching for the horse Jon grabbed hold of her arms and motioned for Podrick to let go, and had Jon not been holding her, she would have slid right off the horse to the ground. Taking her limp body in his arms, he looked upon her face, the sight making him inhale sharply. Even as the snow fell, beads of sweat rolled from her forehead and her closed eyes were encased in dark circles. There were small bruises covering her cheekbones and deep cuts along her hairline, the sight causing a physical pain within his chest. Wasting no time, Jon turned on his heels and began walking inside, unable to take his eyes from her face. Even in her ailing and injured state, she was the most beautiful women he had ever seen. And as Jon made his way inside, a feeling grew within him that he could not explain, he didn't know how or why, but somehow he felt the need to protect and care for this beautiful and fragile stranger, he held in his arms.

As he laid her down on the bed in his chambers, Sansa set to work, taking (YN) out of her damp clothes and as she stripped her down to her undergarments, Jon set to avert his eyes and look away. However, he caught a glimpse of (YN)'s collarbones as Sansa undid her dress and he gave an audible gasp at the sight, unable to look away, Sansa turned her head towards him, clearly understanding his shock. "I know, but that's not the half of it, you should see the rest of her".

Jon stood there silent for a moment, unable to form words, finally he spoke, "W....what happened to her?"

Sansa's answer was simple, but Jon could see her face run cold and anger form in her eyes, "Ramsay Bolton"

Jon could sense she was not ready to speak of the matter yet and offered her to get some rest, while he watched over (YN). Tired and exhausted, Sansa refused. Instead she and Jon sat by (YN)'s side, keeping watch and caring for her, at other times she would lay in the bed beside her and finally catch some rest, while Jon sat quietly and patiently, taking care not to disturb them.

In the early hours of the morning, Sansa had woken, looking somewhat refreshed and Jon was finally able to ask the question he had wanted answered since their arrival. Gesturing towards all of her injuries, he asked, "How did Lady (YN) come to be like this? Why would Ramsey Bolton do this to her?"

Sansa's face became cold and angry again, there was also a hint of guilt, which had him feeling somewhat perplexed as she replied, "Ramsey has never needed a reason, for such cruelty".

Sansa then asked Jon whether he knew who (YN) was, to which he replied, "I only know her by name, I have never met her before, until today".

Sansa nodded her head and continued, "House (YLN) have always been loyal to House Stark and when the Bolton's took over Winterfell, Lord Bolton demanded that they swear allegiance, however, Lord (YLN) refused". Sansa's face became sombre, as she continued, "As punishment, Lord Bolton had them all flayed, her whole family, all except Lady (YN). Ramsey had taken a liking to her, deciding to keep her as his....his play thing". Jon felt numb, but as Sansa spoke on, he could feel an anger rise in the pit of his stomach. "He would beat her all the time, for no reason at all, but rarely would he touch her face, he said he found it far too beautiful, that he needed something good to look at while he......." Sansa couldn't finish the sentence, but Jon didn't need to think hard to know what came next. Over the following hours, his sister told him everything, there were times when (YN) would take Sansa's beatings for her, purposely provoking him when she saw him getting upset with her. And if that wasn't enough, he would lock her in the Kennels for days on end, with barely a scrap to eat or a blanket for warmth. Then came the torture, both mental and physical, he would make Sansa watch, but (YN) would never break, only causing him to become more angry and frustrated, taking it out on her already battered and bruised body.

The more Sansa spoke the more Jon felt his body tense up, his mind consumed with an anger he had never felt before. This monster of a man, who sat at the head of his childhood home, did not deserve to breathe and until now, Jon had never wanted to inflict such pain upon a person. Ramsey Bolton was not long for this world, Jon vowing he would be the one to witness his last breath.

As he gazed upon (YN) lying still in his bed, he realised he had been wrong about her, she was not fragile at all, here was a woman who was strong and beautiful, who refused to be broken, who cared for others at her own expense, never once giving in to the horrors forced upon her.

And when she finally opened her exquisite (EC) eyes, her body still weak and fatigued from fever, he never expected to be met with a warm smile, a smile that took his breath away. Without realising it, Jon had opened his heart to this girl, a heart he thought would be closed forever and as he smiled warmly back at her, he knew that loving her was going to be easy.


	3. Unexpected (Jon Snow x Reader) Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to my Jon Snow x reader imagine, where Jon finds himself having unexpected feelings for the reader. This part is from the reader's point of view
> 
> Warnings: Quite angsty, mentions of violence and anxiety, where the reader feels emotionally broken.
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and encouraged!!

After Ramsey, (YN) thought she would never fully heal, she felt damaged beyond repair....permanently broken. Not that she had ever let Ramsey see that, never did she show him just how much he had ruined her, she wouldn't allow it, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. It was only at night, when she knew she was all alone, when she was sure no one could hear her, that she would finally allow her broken side to simmer up to the surface, leaving her in a debilitating, tearless mess on the cold and dirty floor. Only to pick herself up the next morning, dust off her dirty clothes and hold her head up high, just so she could look Ramsey straight into his cold, dead, eyes again.

When she and Sansa, first escaped Winterfell, never did she think, she would find room in her heart for love. A love for her friends and her departed family, yes, that was easy, but a real love, an intimate and tender love, no, she was far too messed up for that. Well, that's what she had lead herself to believe. And so, waking from her fever in a strange bed, with her eyes falling upon a strange man, should have had her terrified. Instead, she gazed into a pair of unknown, but somehow familiar dark eyes and instantly she felt safe, unable and not willing to stop the warm smile from spreading across her weak and fatigued features. Feeling just a glimmer of hope, flicker to life in her disillusioned heart.

"You know he likes you, don't you?" Sansa said, as she stood brushing Lady (YN)'s (HC) hair, as she sat up in the bed. After being awake for several days now, she was still too weak to be up and about, in fact, she hadn't even been strong enough to leave the room yet. Sansa's words had (YN) biting the inside of her cheek, trying to suppress a smile, Nevertheless, Sansa could see right through her, she had grown up so much since the first time (YN) had met her, way back when Sansa, her father and sister stayed at her family's home, along with the King, as they travelled south to King's Landing. Sansa had been so young and naïve then, but here she was now all grown up and so much wiser, not that she had a say in the matter, the past few years had not been kind to the poor girl, so there was no other choice but for the young girl to grow up.

(YN) didn't reply, though Sansa's comment brought a healthy pink hue to her still pale complexion. It hadn't gone unnoticed by (YN), just how attentive Jon had been since she first woke up and realising this fact, had a warm glow bubbling away in her chest. Whenever he had a spare moment, he would come knocking at her door, well, his door actually, he had so kindly given up his bed to her the moment she arrived and wouldn't hear of her moving to another room, at least until she had fully recovered. (YN) had felt so guilty about this, but he would just give her a small smile and say, 'Really I don't mind, you need it more than I do'. Often he would bring her meals, sitting with her while she ate, (YN) feeling as though he only stayed to ensure she was eating enough food. Each day telling her she was looking a little better and always going out of his way, making sure she had everything she needed or wanted.

Yet, one of the biggest giveaways was the way he looked at her, just the thought of it had another healthy glow spreading across her cheeks. In the evening, both Jon and Sansa would come to sit by her side, keeping her company until it was time for sleep. Sometimes, they would all talk, sometimes it was just her and Sansa, while Jon sat quietly at his desk or by the fire, catching up with his leftover paperwork. (YN) would often catch him sneaking a sideways glance at her, with those deep and broody dark eyes, only to have him look away or his gaze drop to the floor, his beautiful dark curls falling into his face. The sight was adorable and every time it happened, she felt the air catch in her throat.

Above all else though, were the times Jon would burst through the chamber door, in the middle of the night. When her fever had finally broken, the nightmares unfortunately began. Dreams of freezing kennels and vicious barking hounds, of Ramsey standing too close, his vile breath hitting her face as he sweetly whispered unthinkable words into her ear, before sending a blow so heavy to the side of her head, it had her falling limply to the ground. (YN) would never wake up screaming. Instead, Sansa who slept beside her would be woken up by (YN) tossing, turning and thrashing about. Frantically mumbling incoherent words, desperate sounding words, sending unpleasant shivers down Sansa's spine, bringing back her own horrible and violent memories of Ramsey. And it was Sansa's distressed attempts to calm her down, which had Jon waking and scrambling his way into the room, from next door, taking (YN) in his arms rocking her back and forth, assuring her that she was safe and out of Ramsey's reach. Not wanting or willing to let her out of his embrace, until her tearless weeps had faded and she was sleeping soundly once more. Staying with her until the morning, when (YN) would wake to find him sleeping uncomfortably in the chair beside her bed, his hand resting tenderly upon hers.

It was during these harrowing and monopolising moments (YN) blissfully realised, maybe he had more than just simple feelings for her. It was in the way he held her protectively in his arms, in the way he softly held her face between his strong, calloused hands as his beautiful eyes stared deeply into hers, silently calming her troubled soul. And it was there, behind those dark, silent eyes, she saw a burning anger grow from a mere flickering ember. An anger reserved for the monster who created the agonising scene before him. The anger was fierce, it was brutal and relentless and (YN) knew it would never go away, not until he had his moment with that monster, the monster who tried to break the one he held his arms, tried to break, but failed. And it was only then (YN) realised she wasn't broken, she had never been broken, there had always been a glimmer of hope in her heart, it was there all along, she just never knew it. And how happy she was, to realise that glimmer of hope was Jon.


	4. No Words (Robb Stark X Reader) One Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb's thoughts and feelings, after the birth of his child
> 
> Warnings: None, unless babies and fluff bother you.

Robb was tired. More tired than he had ever felt his entire life, not that it bothered him in the slightest, there would be no way he could sleep anyway. Nor would he want to. Last night had been exhausting, but he knew you would be far more exhausted than he could ever imagine, and yet he had not heard one single word of complaint slip from your sweet lips. Sitting silently on the bed beside you, he inhaled deeply, shaking his head in awe of what you had done, merely a few short hours earlier.

Thinking back, to just over twelve moons ago, Robb remembered the vision of you walking towards him on your wedding day, never thinking he would ever see a more beautiful and breathtaking sight, or believing he could ever love another as much as he loved you. Oh, how he had been wrong. Lifting his gaze up to you, he watched as you sat quietly smiling, looking down upon the newborn babe, sleeping soundly as he suckled at your breast. It was so much more than he was prepared for, his mind unable to put into words the overwhelming sight that lay before him.

Reaching out his hand so gently, Robb ran feather light fingers across the silky, fine hair, on his newborn son's head, giving you a smile that was filled with wonder as his hand reached up to move a lock of damp hair from your perfect face. As if it was a natural reflex, he leaned down, placing the softest kiss upon the child's head, before reaching over and meeting his lips with yours, causing beautiful, unfamiliar feelings to rise in his chest.

Only yesterday, he thought he could never love another, more than he loved you and yet overnight, he felt as if the volume of his heart had doubled, once again filled to the brim, with love and devotion, for both you and his little wolf. Robb sat there in wonder of the gift you held in your arms, the look of pride was clear in his eyes, pride in what you had done for him and an almost immeasurable pride in the tiny, but somehow perfect little bundle. A bundle that had done little more than simply, exist.

As Robb watched you tenderly cradle the fragile piece of perfection in your arms, he felt a desperate need to reach out and thank you, but there was nothing he could say which would convey the love and gratitude, amazement and pride he felt in that moment. Always knowing, he would quite gratefully be in your debt, until the day he left this world, a world which now, held such a different meaning for him. Bubbling up inside of him was a fierce need to provide, nurture and protect you both, which he knew would never subside, it would always be there, pushing him, urging him and spurring him on.

Taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts, he looked back up into your gentle (ec) eyes, hoping he could find something, anything to say, which would only begin to express what it was, that he felt inside. Meeting his gaze, you gave him a tender, knowing smile, saying so much more than words ever could. And, it was in that moment that he realised, as you reached over to wipe away a tear, a tear he didn't know was there, that you understood. Now knowing, there was no need for him to speak. And as you gently handed over his son, into his eagerly awaiting arms, he just knew his life could never deliver a more perfect moment than this.


	5. 'My Gendry' (Gendry Waters x Reader) One shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader remembers the day Gendry comes into her life and the day he leaves.
> 
> Warnings : Quite angsty, at times.
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments and feedback, it will help me to improve.

(YN) hadn't been herself, for quite some time and it was really starting to get her down. It wasn't that she was sick or particularly unhappy, it was just that she didn't quite feel whole. Sitting all alone in the kitchen of her parents humble home, (YN) moved the food around her plate, her appetite fading as quickly as her mood. It was moments like this she noticed the emptiness in her chest the most. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her plate aside and rested her head in her arms on the table. Closing her eyes, her mind was flooded with visions of him, his sweet boyish smile and messy dark hair, those caring blue eyes and his soot covered face, everything about him, would be etched in her mind forever. 'My Gendry', (YN) thought to herself, she had referred to him that way ever since she was a little girl, when talking to him or her parents, or anyone else who would care to listen, it was always 'My Gendry does this' or 'My Gendry can do that' it was never just 'Gendry'.

With her head still resting in her hands, (YN) thought back to the time her childhood infatuation began, she was only five years old at the time and Gendry just a couple of years older, the memory of it bringing a fond smile to her lips. The day was beautiful and sunny and her mother had sent her outside to play in the street of their Flea Bottom home. However, (YN) was not like other children and even at the age of five, playing had never really been her thing. Being quite a clever and inquisitive child, it wasn't unusual for her to drive her family crazy, asking them questions to fill her thirst for knowledge. Even people in the local streets and shops were not immune to her constant queries, she wanted to know the how's and why's about everything, what they were doing, making, and eating, she just couldn't learn enough. However, this particular day was different, she sat quietly on the step of her house just watching the other children play, as she threw a small stone back and forth in her hands.

After a while, (YN) walked over and asked whether she could play, when one of the boys who was probably a year or so older, looked at her with distaste and replied in a nasty voice, "No, go away you stupid shit". (YN) just stood there, not knowing how to react, looking so small and lost, just waiting and hoping the boy would change his mind and let her play. After a long moment the boy turned back around and saw her still standing there, with an angry face he took a step towards her and shoved her little shoulder, her body falling to the dirty ground below. Then taking another step forward, he stomped his foot into the ground beside her head, pinning her there by her (HC) hair, "I said go away, we don't wanna to play with you". Unable to move, (YN)'s eyes began to water and her tiny five year old frame began to shake from fear, not understanding why someone would be so mean.

Just as the boy raised his fist and waved it over her face in a threat, a voice came from across the road, "Hey, leave her alone".

The boy turned around, still pinning her to the ground by her hair and in a cocky voice replied, "Why, what ya gonna to do about it?"

Without a word, her saviour made his way across the road and pushed the boy flying, "That's what I'm gonna do". Then crouching down beside her, he took her by the hand and with the sweetest of smiles said, "Come on princess, you don't want to play with them". And that was it, from that day on he took her under his wing, he helped her with her chores, he patiently answered all of her questions, he would cheer her up when she was sad and kept her safe from harm. Over the years they became permanent fixtures in each other's lives, rarely would you see one, without the other. With an unknown father and his mother dead, Gendry adopted (YN)'s family as his own and over the years they became quite fond of the boy and appreciated the way he cared for their daughter. And even though times were hard and food was scarse, they always saved him a spot at their kitchen table.

Until one day without warning, he walked out of her life, leaving her feeling hollow and empty inside. (YN) was at work, cleaning one of the rooms at the Flea Bottom Inn, when she turned around and saw him standing in the doorway. That in itself, was nothing unusual, quite often he would seek her out during his lunch to spend a few minutes with her, even giving her a hand with her cleaning, but this day was not like the others. Turning around, (YN) gave him a warm smile, until her eyes fell upon his sullen expression. Dropping the broom to the floor, (YN)'s face turned white, "Gendry, what's going on, what's happened?"

Silently walking towards her, he took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself. Then placing his hands gently on the sides of her arms, he spoke, "I have to leave King's Landing, I have to leave today". (YN) couldn't think straight, he had never mentioned wanting to leave before, why would he be doing this. Opening her mouth to speak, but finding no words, she just stood there, limp from shock. "I'm sorry Princess, I don't want to leave, but the King's guards are after me". Taking another deep breath, he looked deep into her (EC) eyes and she could see he was not finding this easy, barely keeping his voice steady as he continued, "I don't know why they want me, but it's not safe for me here".

(YN) took a step back from him, her body starting to shake, "You can't leave me here, I can't be without you.... You're my.....my Gendry".

Moving towards her again, he took her face in his hands, his voice now thick with emotion, "I would never leave you if I had a choice, but I don't, I have to go". Then leaning down he placed his lips to her forehead and rested them there a moment, before finishing with a gentle kiss. Taking her in his arms, he held her tightly, as if he didn't want to let her go and whispered in her ear, "I am going to miss you, more than you know". And just like that he was gone, he turned and walked away, out the door, out of her life, never to be heard from again.

Lifting her head from the table, (YN) ran her fingers through her hair as she shook her head at the memory. Staring at the empty chair across from her, she imagined what she would say if he were sitting there right now. There would be so many things to tell him, starting with the fact that she has loved him since forever and she never realised just how much until the day he left. Or the way she feels empty inside without him and lost without him by her side. How she misses his smile and the way he would kiss her forehead so tenderly, so many things.......so many things left unsaid. Standing up, (YN) sighed and grabbed the plate of food to put it away, maybe she would be hungry tomorrow. Turning around her body froze, her mouth dropping in an audible gasp. There leaning against the doorway was a familiar dark figure, a little older than she remembered and even in the low candlelight she could tell he was smiling, his eyes still as kind and inviting as the day she meet him, all those years ago. After a long silent moment just standing there, unsure as to whether her eyes were playing a cruel trick on her, she heard the sweetest most welcomed sound she had heard in years, "Hi Princess, why you looking so sad?".

The sound of his voice, sent a sensation like no other she had ever felt, throughout every fibre of her entire body and even though it was unfamiliar, it felt right, it felt in place, it made her feel like she was finally whole again. With her mouth still open, she finally found words as her legs sprang her into action, taking her across the kitchen and into his open arms. And in a broken voice laced with both tears and joy (YN) nestled her head into the crook of his neck, and whispered, "My Gendry".


	6. A Real Love (Jaime Lannister X Reader) Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime's morning thoughts about the Reader  
> Warnings: Fluff overload

Jaime didn't know love could feel like this, so free and without conditions. As he lay in the bed beside you watching you sleep, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of your (HC) hair, all tangled and messy, covering nearly half of your perfect face. All his life, he thought he knew what love was, but all his life, he had been wrong and how glad he was that you were the one to show him the beautiful truth. Jaime's fingers carefully moved the hair from your face, fighting the urge to lean over and place a tender kiss to your lips, he didn't want to wake you. Gentleness and tenderness was so new to him, but so welcomed, never had he wanted to treat someone with such care and devotion. As you began to stir, you mumbled an "I love you", the words feeding his heart with such joy, he couldn't believe you spoke those words just for him. At first, he felt so undeserving of you, you deserved a man of honour who was kind and thoughtful and.....complete, but somehow you had managed to convince him that he was good and kind and worthy of your love. When you finally opened your sleepy (EC) eyes, he found himself kissing your forehead, while you whispered to him a husky "Good morning", before wrapping your arms around his middle, the feeling sending a wave of contentment throughout his body. And as you nuzzled your head under his chin and peppered his chest with sweet kisses, Jaime realised, that until the day he met you, he had never really loved before.


	7. Southern Lady (Tormund Giantsbane x Reader) One Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund finds himself attracted to a Southern Lady. Drabble was inspired by gif.
> 
> Warnings : None
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments and feedback, it will help me to improve.

Tormund shook his head at himself and laughed, he never thought he would ever want a southern lady, but here you were, and he was absolutely intoxicated by you. You were beautiful and privileged, well spoken and educated, everything he thought he detested, but as you sat across from him, eating your supper, he found himself wondering about the taste of your lips on his, the touch of your hands on his face and the curve of your hips under his fingertips. Shaking his head again, he looked up to find you staring at him, with lively (EC) eyes, "What has you so amused Tormund? You haven't stopped smiling since supper began".

Tormund replied with a mischievous grin, "I am amused at myself. Amused cause I have fallen for a southern lady"

Taking delight in your reaction, Tormund stared intently at you. Your cheeks began to burn and you averted your eyes shyly, but only for a moment, while tucking your (HC) hair behind your ears, looking back to him, with a smile that only encouraged him to say more. "I think this southern lady might just be the most beautiful woman I have seen". 'Ah, there it is again', he thought to himself, 'those beautiful burning cheeks', he found himself imagining what it would be like to wake up and see those cheeks every morning, the thought sending a hunger and thirst throughout his body that neither food nor water could satisfy.

Tormund noticed how you recovered from your embarrassment much faster this time, and just as he was about to say more and get those cheeks burning again, you spoke with a playful tone. "Well Tormund, maybe you should tell this southern lady how you feel, you just never know, maybe she likes you too".

Without even a blink of his eyes, Tormund responded, but he noticed how his heart jumped an excited beat in his chest, at her inviting words. "Ah, but I think she already knows".

Tormund drank in your knowing smile as you replied, "And how do you suppose she knows, if you haven't told her. A southern girl is not like those beyond the wall. Many of us are very uneducated in the matters of the heart"

'Many may be', he thought to himself, but this young lass knew exactly what was going on and he was loving every moment of it. "Aye, it could be true, I wouldn't know, but I'm sure she already knows".

"And how would you know that, Tormund Giantsbane?" you said, as he saw you bite the corner of your bottom lip, sending wild thoughts through his mind.

"Well you see, every time I speak to her, her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red and it's driving me crazy". Once again, his words had their desired affect and as he picked up the drumstick sitting on his plate, he waved its in the direction of your lovely face and said, "Aye Lass, that's what I mean, just like that", he then gave a hearty laugh, before biting into the drumstick with a suggestive and knowing raise of his wild eyes.


	8. An Urgent Confession (Sandor Clegane x Reader) One Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little story about the reader reminiscing of a moment between her and Sandor 
> 
> Warning: None really. Fluff? (how fluffy can it be, it's Sandor)
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments and feedback, it will help me to improve.

There was no doubt about it, the man was huge and nearly everyone found him terrifying, but he had never once fooled you. Yes, he was gruff, yes, he was stubborn, yes, he was rough around the edges, but inside he was as soft and as sweet as a lemon cake, just for you. Sandor was good and kind and you saw it straight away, however, he had a hard time believing it and for a long time he ignored his feelings for you, but you were just as stubborn as he was and in the end, you won the battle.

As you stood there watching him mend the fence outside, by a window in the home you shared, you found yourself remembering the day he finally told you he loved you. It wasn't that you didn't already know, because you did, but hearing those words fall from his lips for the very first time, was like hearing birds sing on an already perfect and sunny day. It was the icing on top. You were working and living at the Red Keep, when you first met him, as a cook in the main kitchens, you had seen him around a few times and had heard plenty of tales about 'The Hound', but you were never one to take heed in second-hand gossip. When he walked through the kitchen door, it was clear he had never seen or noticed you before. Sandor had come through the doorway like he was on some kind of mission, but when his eyes landed upon you, his feet faulted and stopped him dead in his tracks, his gaze immediately dropping to the floor, before a pink hue travelled up his neck to his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he looked at you, then in a rather harsh tone, he huffed and said, "Who are you, where's Jules?"

Smiling, you stopped kneading the bread in front of you, then picking up the apron around your waist, you wiped the flour from your hands. After changing shifts with Jules', she had told you to expect a visit from the hound, almost every day he came at the same time to eat in the kitchens. Not that she ever told you, but you could tell she had a soft spot for the grumpy man, maybe that's why he had never really intimidated you. Jules' was like the grandmother you never had and you trusted in her judgement more than anyone. "Sorry Lord Clegane, Jules and I have changed shifts for a couple of weeks, so in the meantime, you will have to put up with me". And with that, you leaned across the table and grabbed the plate you had already prepared for him, pushing it towards him.

Sandor didn't say a thing, but you saw him sneak a peek at your cleavage when you reached for the plate, it didn't bother you in the slightest, to be honest, you found it rather adorable. It was as if he wanted to look, but was trying his hardest not too and that was the moment you realised, you had nothing to fear from this giant, beast of a man. And close up his face wasn't nearly as bad as everyone made out, on a whole you found him quite attractive. You had always found big men beautiful, and immediately you found yourself thinking about how safe you would feel in those strong arms of his.

Over the next couple of weeks, Sandor slowly opened up to you, not that he did much talking, most of the conversation came from you, but the changes were there and although no one else would have noticed, you did and it brought you unexpected joy. At first, he began to turn up at the kitchens a little earlier each day, coming through the doorway looking a little flushed, as if he had rushed his way to get there. Then there were the little clues, he would say things like, 'This bread is good' or 'Is there more chicken? I could eat this all day', or he would clear his own plate and wash it up, before leaving, giving you a quick and gruff thanks. Then there were the bigger clues, like the times you caught him watching you, with a small smile playing at his lips, only to quickly turn his head when you looked his way and smiled. Or the day you returned to your usual shift, only to find him turning up in the kitchen doorway, giving you some poor excuse as to why he had to eat early that day, but still returning the next day and the day after that.

It was all of these gestures, which told you he loved you. Never had you expected to hear the words, but the day he came running to your modest chambers, it changed the course of your life forever. Sandor was fighting in the 'Battle of Blackwater', and you were sick to the stomach with worry, praying to the gods, he would be okay. At the time, the two of you weren't even seeing each other and you certainly hadn't kissed, you couldn't even say that you were close friends, but you both realised the feelings you had for each other.

Sandor barged into the kitchens and urgently took your hand, looking you straight in the eyes, as he had never done before, he didn't even try to hide the scar on his face, something was very wrong. "(YN), the battle has started, ya must go to ya chambers", then he pulled your arm a little too roughly and began walking in the direction of your room.

Feeling a bit shocked by his urgency, you couldn't utter much more than, "Why?"

"Cause, if Stannis' men find a way in here, there's no tellin what they will do". As he reached your chamber he opened the door and almost pushed you inside. "I've seen enough battles to know what a soldier will do when they see a pretty girl like you". Then before he turned to leave, he said one more thing, "Now lock the door and push somethin across it, the heaviest thing ya can manage, open the door to no one but me, I'll be back when it's safe". Then with no further words, he left.

The waiting was horrible, 'what if he didn't return, what if something happened to him', the gravity of these realisations physically hurt. Your head started pounding, your heart thumped loud in your chest and your stomach wanted to purge itself of its lunch.

It seemed like hours before you heard fists banging demandingly on the door, then came the most welcomed voice you had ever heard, "(YN), it's me, open up". Running to the door, you hastily pushed away the barricade and upon opening it you felt like leaping into his arms, but the look on his face told you there was no time for that. "I'm leaving this stinkin place, I don't wanna be here anymore. And it's not safe for you here, come with me".

You were in shock and you stood there stunned, arms limp by your sides. Sandor had said more words to you today, than he had in the whole time you'd known him and just like earlier, the only word you could utter was "Why?"

Sandor, had no time for explaining, he made his way through the door, "Are you comin, or not?" He looked around your room and picking up a bag, he began to chuck things inside.

This made you angry, you wanted an answer, "Why? Sandor" putting a hand over his arm, you stopped him, making him turn his face to yours. "Tell me why, you want me to come".

The look in his eyes softened, but only slightly, he didn't want to have this conversation. "I told ya, if I'm not here, I can't keep ya safe".

"That's not an answer Sandor", you were getting impatient and you were sure the look on your face was making that clear.

Letting go of the bag, he turned his whole body to face you and you could see the hesitation in his eyes, "Cause I love ya, that's why and I don't want to leave ya behind".

'Finally' you thought and even under the urgent circumstances you exhaled and felt your body relax, a smile taking over your features. Without warning, you threw your arms around his neck, jumping up and hugging his middle with your legs, the movement barely causing his body to falter. Then meeting your lips with his, you gave him a short and wistful kiss, before placing your forehead to his, "Let's get going then".


	9. A Change of Plans (Tyrion Lannister X Reader) One shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion meets the reader for the first time and finds himself completely taken by her.
> 
> Warnings : Little bit of angst towards the end.

Tyrion was almost running down the great stone hallways of Winterfell, in a rush to get out of the place, he was finding the King's feast quite stifling. Not that the Starks were bothering him in any way, in fact, even with their harsh northern ways he found them quite welcoming, charming even. With a bottle of Dornish wine, gripped tightly in his hand, he lifted it to his mouth in a hurry, as eager thoughts of making his way to the Winter Town brothel, ran through his mind. There his gold could buy him a few hours of local entertainment, but more importantly, a few hours of peace from the spiteful, disapproving glares of his wretched sister, he really preferred not to be in her presence, if he could ever help it. So, after an excruciating hour of putting in an appearance at the feast, as his duty required, he found himself slipping out of Winterfell's great hall, making hast down the vast hallway, leading him towards the exit and into the cold, refreshing air, which the northern night offered. However, his plans abruptly changed, the moment he swung the door open, being so tense and in such a hurry to get out of the place, he pushed on the door with such force that he surprised himself. At the best of times, he struggled to push a door of that size and weight open and yet, in that unfortunate, or actually rather fortunate moment, the door flew open, before coming to an abrupt stop and swinging back, almost hitting him in the face.

This time with more care, he inched the door open and stepped out into the dimly lit courtyard, where his eyes met with the cause of the door's obstruction, making his heart speed up in panic. Throwing his bottle of wine aside, to the cold and dusty ground, he rushed to the aid of the beautiful stranger, who was currently lying flat on her back, starring up at him with stunning, but understandably stunned (EC) eyes. "Oh, pardon me my lady, please, let me help you....I didn't mean to....". Offering out his hand, she took it and pulled herself into a sitting position, the contact sending a jolt of energy flickering in his chest. Tyrion was finding it difficult to find words, his usually quick and charming wit, lost somewhere amongst the fluster swirling around in his mind.

Taking her by the elbow, Tyrion fumbled and struggled about, trying to help her to her feet, being brought to ease at the sound of her sweet laugh and calming voice, "It's okay Lord Tyrion, there is no need to make a fuss, I am unharmed".

With her soothing and relaxed manner, Tyrion collected his thoughts, able to form a full sentence again, "Well, still, I'm sorry, My Lady", then with a charming smile, he continued, "You know, it's not every day, that I sweep such a beautiful woman off her feet, that is usually reserved for my brother Jaime". With a glorious smile, she picked herself up off the ground and began to smooth down the front of her dress, the light from the torches on the stone walls falling upon her face, allowing him to truly see her for the first time and the sight was breathtaking.

With an amused smile, she tucked her silky (HC) locks behind her ears, "Well, I wouldn't make a habit of it if I were you, maybe leave the sweeping to your brother and simply say 'hello' instead".

Tyrion gave a genuine laugh, her quick response sending a flutter through his chest and as he gave a single nod of his head, he replied, "Yes, I think you make a good point, I shall keep that in mind for the future". Then he shuffled somewhat restlessly on his feet, eager to keep the conversation going, "I must apologise, you know my name, but I do not know yours. Surely, we have not met before, I could not imagine forgetting such a beautiful face."

Tyrion notice how his compliment only caused a slight blush to spread across her cheeks, it was barely even noticeable, but it was there, making him want to reach up and run the back of his fingers gently across her beautiful pink skin. Composing herself very quickly, she looked at him with intelligent (EC) eyes, and said in a gentle, but confident voice, "No, we have not meet before, however, I have the advantage of knowing there can't be too many men of your stature, wondering around in the fine red and gold Lannister thread, that I see before me." Then he saw her eyes soften, it was as if she was worried that her words may have offended him, holding out her hand she introduced herself, "Lady (YN) of House Glover".

Tyrion felt stupid, if he hadn't been so taken by her, he would have noticed her House's sigil, pinned to her dress. Clearing his throat, he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss to her fingers. "Yes, of course, I should have guessed, your beauty is well known across all of Westeros". Again, there was only a whisper of pink touching her cheeks and he knew in that moment that the Lady standing before him would not be flattered and won over so easily.

Clearly finding his attempts at flattery amusing, Lady (YN) let the most exquisite sounding chuckle slip from her lips, the action causing Tyrion's face redden with heat. This certainly wasn't going as he expected, his usual confidence faltering, that's not to say he wasn't loving every moment of it, because he was, thoughts of his visit to the local brothel, long lost to the intriguing and beautiful woman standing before him. "Tell me Lord Tyrion, where are you escaping to, whilst the King's feast has barely hit full swing?"

Tyrion's face flooded with colour again, 'How is she doing this?' he thought to himself, 'it is supposed to be me, making her face go red'. Clenching his hands together in front of himself, he rocked back and forth on his feet and answered, "Ah...nowhere in particular, just catching some of the fresh, cool night air that the north has to offer". Noticing her eyes fall upon the bottle of dornish wine, which now had spilled its entire contents across the ground, he continued, "Oh and I thought that maybe the bottle over there could help keep me company, but it looks as if I must make new plans".

A small smile crept its way to Lady (YN)'s lips and before too long her whole face had been engulfed in a pure look of exquisite mischief, "I don't need much of an excuse to keep me from the feast either", then hushing him with a single finger to her lips, she gestured for him to follow her. Making her way around the courtyard, she came to a stop just before the external kitchen doorway, where they both could hear the clanking and clunking of pots and pans and the busy chatter of all the kitchen staff. Tyrion watched her as she barely poked her head around the doorway before completely disappearing, leaving him wondering whether to follow or not, but before he even had the chance to decide, she was standing back in front of him with another heartbreaking smile and a bottle of wine in each hand. Tyrion couldn't help but grin, this was his kind of woman, he had never really found Lady's all that appealing, but this Lady, now she was different. There appeared to be no judgement in her eyes, instead he saw in them both humour and intelligence and there was a certain energy to her spirit that he found very appealing. Then of course, there was her beauty, it was beyond compare, all the rumours he had heard were true and he found it hard to believe that she was not already married or at the very least betrothed.

"Well, Lady (YN), you are a resourceful one, aren't you?" taking the bottles from her hands, he gestured for her to lead the way, "and just where are we headed with these beautiful flasks of grape juice?"

"You did say you were after some fresh, cool night air, so please follow me, I know this place like the back of my hand and I know the perfect spot". After a quick walk through the courtyard, Tyrion found themselves coming to a stop under the oak trees near the crypts and he had to admit it was both beautiful and peaceful. Sitting down (YN) spoke, "I love it here, it is my favourite spot in all of Winterfell".

Sitting down in front of her, Tyrion opened both bottles, handing her one, "So, you have spent a lot of time here in Winterfell then", laughing at her, as she pulled a goblet from some hidden pocket of her dress.

Looking at the goblet in her hand, she let the sweetest giggle escape her lips, "You can't expect me to drink straight from the bottle, I am a Lady after all". Then (YN)'s eyes softened, growing a fond look, barely visible as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the only light now filtering down from the moon above the trees. "Yes, growing up I would spend months on end here and I loved it. The Starks are like a second family to me, this spot here is my favourite, I would take all the books from their library and come right here to read". With his sight now fully adjusted, he could see the happiness flooding her perfect features as she spoke about her childhood memories. "The books here were always so much more interesting than the ones back at Deepwood Motte. I don't know how many times Lord Stark must have found me sleeping under this tree, before picking me up and carrying me in for dinner".

Tyrion found himself sitting there enraptured, by her voice, her words, her face, her memories and for once in his life, he did not feel the need to talk, a very unusual circumstance to find himself in and he loved it. Of course, he spoke and laughed and relished whenever he brought a smile or giggle to her lips. However, he wasn't compelled to fill every silence with charming and witty words, instead during those silent moments he found himself wanting to reach up and place his lips to hers, the mere thought sending his heart racing. Trying to shake such thoughts and images from his head, Tyrion took a big gulp of wine, his mind bringing him to unpleasant realisations. There was a reason he only ever sought love at a brothel, at least at brothels he would not be refused and rejected, no Lady, not even one as sweet and down to earth as Lady (YN) would ever be interested in an unloved, unwanted imp, such as himself. He knew he was smart, he knew he was funny and he knew his family's money was very appealing to many, however that was not enough, he wanted more, he wanted to be truly loved and that, he knew he did not deserve. Lost in his thoughts, Tyrion was brought back with a soft hand to the side of his face and a tender thumb running along his cheek bone, looking up from the bottle in his hands, he gazed into (YN)'s concerned (EC) eyes, "Lord Tyrion, are you okay? You seem a million miles away, I hope I have not offended you in any way".

The feeling of her tender hand on his cheek, the concern he heard in her voice and saw in her eyes, sent a joy and comfort through him that he had never felt before and it was almost too much for him to handle. Clearing his throat, Tyrion somehow found words, "No....not at all Lady (YN), I was simply lost in thought, thinking about what a wonderful evening this has turned out to be, much better than I had first anticipated".

For the first time since their meeting, Tyrion noticed Lady (YN) looking nervous, shy even, taking in the way she took a deep breath, as though she was contemplating something. Tyrion opened his mouth to speak again, however (YN) placed a finger to his lips, in a silent gesture for quiet, making his heart speed up and heat to radiate throughout his body. And as she closed her eyes and leaned down towards him, placing her soft lips to his, he knew that this woman had changed his life forever. All the gold coins in the world, could never buy the genuine feelings he just felt in that single kiss and he wanted more. That need, that desire, that craving would always be there now. And as she pulled her lips from his and gazed caringly into his eyes, he found himself breathless, knowing he would do everything in his power to keep her in his life.


	10. Always Have (Tommen Baratheon x Reader) One shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommen watches (YN), his childhood friend as she plays with orphans.
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Hope you enjoy and please, feel free to drop me a message
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments and feedback, it will help me to improve.

Tommen had come to the Orphanage to collect you, just as he had promised, his guards walking him from his carriage into the building, as the staff bowed and curtsied politely in greeting. The headmistress also curtsying politely, as she spoke, "Your Grace, it's a pleasure as always, Lady (YN) is just over there, through the doorway", as she gestured across the hallway to a small opening, before continuing, "Out there in the courtyard, playing with the children". Thanking her, Tommen began walking across the hall, asking his guards to stay behind.

Stopping in the doorway, he spotted you on the other side of the courtyard, you were hard to miss, he imagined he could spot you amongst a crowd of thousands. You had always been so beautiful to him. Tommen watched you sitting on the dusty ground as if you didn't have a care in the world. A small boy climbed all over you, pulling at your hair, causing the most precious smile to grace your features, as another small child jumped up onto your back, wrapping their arms around your neck as you laughed sweetly, pulling them around onto your lap.

As he stood there watching you, he couldn't help but smile endearingly at your friendly and loving nature. You had always been that way, ever since he could remember. When the both of you would play together, as little ones in the Red Keep, you would always ask the servant's children to come and play too. Remembering how his mother would turn up her nose and disapprove, but come the following day, you would go and do exactly the same thing. Yet, his mother never had the heart to come out and completely forbid it, knowing how much it would upset him, to see you upset.

You were still just sitting there, playing with the children, blissfully unaware of his presence and it absolutely melted his heart to see you with them, unable to stop an exquisite vision of you, holding a baby of your very own, a baby which he could also proudly claim as his. With a crown of (YHC) hair and sweet (YEC) eyes, just like you. With you as a mother, the child would be the sweetest most beautiful royal baby the crown has ever seen. With a bite of his bottom lip, he blushed at his very own thoughts, realising just how much he loved you, trying to remember and think back to the moment he first knew. It was right at that moment, you lifted your gaze and smiled at him, the smile was warm and genuine, beautiful and sweet and it was then, that he realised there was no particular moment. Tommen could not recall one single time in his life, when he did not love you, growing up, every memory of you was filled with love, a love that had grown from the very beginning, it had always been there and he knew it would never go. And as he watched you stand up and dust your dress off, kissing the children farewell, he knew it was time to confess his love, praying to the God's, that you would love him back.


	11. Distractions (Oberyn Martell x Reader) One shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader is not normally flustered by men, but all that changes when she meets Oberyn.
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!!

Men didn't make her nervous, they never had, she had always been able to twist them around her little finger. Lady (YN) was intelligent, powerful, wealthy and very, very beautiful, known as one of the most desirable women in all of Westeros, if not the most. Men went out of their way to impress her, but rarely would they succeed, usually they ended up fumbling over their words, their faces turning pink, whenever she gave them any sort of attention. So why was Oberyn Martell so different? Why did her heart falter everytime her eyes fell upon his handsome face? And why was he constantly in her thoughts, sending her mad with distractions?

As (YN) sat there, in the Gardens of the Red Keep, she found herself thinking about him yet again, with the tip of her thumb between her teeth, she nibbled away at her nail. Annoyed with herself, she dropped her hand into her lap and began to smooth out the front of her dress for no particular reason. Normally, (YN) was calm and cool-headed and very focused, but since meeting Prince Oberyn, she had found it hard to concentrate on nearly anything and her lack of discipline was driving her crazy. Nevertheless, if she was being completely honest with herself, she had to admit, that as much as it drove her crazy, she found it equally as thrilling. 

Hearing footsteps in the distance (YN) looked up from her lap, her gaze falling upon the very man consuming her every thought, he was walking towards her with his usual confident swagger and a ready smile on his face, just for her. Immediately she felt her pulse increase and her heart quicken, the sensation feeling as though she had a million butterflies fluttering in her chest trying to break free. Maybe it was his confidence around her that she found so appealing, he always had a string of charming words for her, that never failed to have her complexion blushing. And the fact that he appeared to take such pleasure in making her blush when no one else could, only had her cheeks blushing darker.

Even with all his confidence and charm, (YN) found Oberyn quite genuine to speak to and be around, not that she had spent a lot of time with him, but the moments she had, were such a refreshing change for King's Landing. For all her calm, ambitious and cool-headed ways she was never without warmth and honesty, a very rare find indeed, in a town full of greed and a relentless thirst for power at any cost. Oberyn appeared to chase after none of that and (YN) found it very appealing. So, as Oberyn picked a perfect rose from the bush beside him and closed the remaining gap between them, she braced herself for the onslaught of charming words, which she knew would spill from those impeccable lips, her face already flushing with a touch of colour.

Oberyn stopped before her, his gaze both warm and intense and even without any physical contact, his smile sent pleasing shivers across her shoulders. Reaching out his hand, he offered her the rose as he spoke, "A beautiful rose for the most beautiful flower in all of Westeros". That voice, that accent, had her shivers spreading from her shoulders across her arms and down her back, unable to contain the shy smile which overtook her features.

Taking a shallow breath, (YN) settled her racing heart a little, gaining just a touch of confidence, "Prince Oberyn, how lovely to see you again", taking her hand she reached for the rose, her hand brushing with his fingers, the feel of his rough and calloused skin, sending her thoughts astray.

Giving her the most inviting smile, she bit the corner of her bottom lip as he stretched out his arm towards her, "Lady (YN), please would you grant me the pleasure of your company and walk with me around these lovely gardens, the day is far too beautiful to waste, as are you?"

(YN) could feel her cheeks burn, dropping her eyes to her lap she swallowed thickly, hoping to gain some sort of control over the rush of blood that was currently spreading over her entire body. Standing up slowly as she composed herself, she nodded her head slowly and unknowingly gave Oberyn a beautiful, thought crushing smile. Extending her arm towards him, she took a deep breath and entwined it around his and as she did so, little did she know the commotion she was causing inside of Oberyn's head.

Taking in her exquisite smile as she willingly reached out her arm for his, had Oberyn breathless, never had he come across such beauty and as she weaved her arm gently around his, she replied, "Thank you, that would be lovely". Feeling his usual composure falter, his words got lost in his throat, only able to react with a nod of his head, as an elated smile spread across his lips. Never had he felt so lost around a beautiful woman, he had always been so full of easy charm and confidence around them, but this one created unfamiliar feelings to bubble up inside of him. Leaving him distracted and feeling somewhat vulnerable around the alluring, charming and fascinating woman before him, however, grateful that he somehow managed to appear his usual charismatic self.

From the time his gaze had first fallen upon her, he was smitten. Walking into the crowded throne room he had noticed her straight away, how could he not have? Standing there so elegantly with her flowing (HC) hair falling perfectly around her stunning face as her expressive (EC) eyes stared at him so intently. And as he found himself staring back at her, he had felt his heart swell and his thoughts go hazy, before she had so shyly turned her gaze from him, leaving him standing there, feeling as though he would burst if she did not look at him again.

And then he met her, the moment creating a whole new world of feelings to flutter to life in his chest. A few simple words from her perfectly formed lips and his thoughts were gone. The sound of her smooth and silky voice provoking images of himself waking up beside her, as she whispered sweet words in hushed tones against his ear, sending glorious goosebumps around his body. It was a strange predicament to find himself in, feeling as though he had little control over his own thoughts and he loved every moment of it.

Oberyn had always known he had a way with women, even a number of men for that matter and so he was quite used to seeing them blush, smile shyly or trip over their words if he paid them any extra attention. So when Lady (YN) reacted this way, why did it warm his heart so much and why did he take so much pleasure from it? To see her bite the corner of her bottom lip as she had done only moments earlier or see her drop her gaze and inhale deeply to calm her nerves, made him want to reach out and take those beautiful blushing cheeks in his hands and press his lips to hers in a long and passionate kiss. Maybe he took so much pleasure from it because he had seen her around other men, powerful, wealthy and handsome men, who were willing to do anything for a little of her attention and yet she was so seemingly unaffected by them. He really didn't know, but the feeling he got inside whenever he caused such a reaction had him feeling emotions he had never felt before.

Without realising, as they walked along in the garden they both began to relax, the simple act of being arm in arm feeling both new and thrilling and yet somehow strangely familiar, as if they had done it a million times before. Taking his free hand, Oberyn reached across and rubbed tenderly along (YN)'s arm, the feel of her soft warm skin under his fingertips bringing more intimate visions of her dancing into his head. Then standing still, (YN) turned to face him and the smile he was greeted with filled his heart with pure bliss. Standing there gazing into her beautiful (EC) eyes he found affection and attraction and a spark of confidence......Just where her courage came from (YN) had no idea, but his touch upon her arm had left her wanting more. Reaching her hand up, she placed it to the side of his face and before she knew it, his hand came to rest over hers as the other tangled loosely in her hair, his lips meeting hers in a kiss. How one kiss could be so many things seemed impossible, but it was, it was sweet and delicate, yet passionate and urgent and most of all it felt right, as if everything in their lives had just fallen into place. And as their lips parted they both smiled, gazing affectionately into each other's eyes knowing that this was the beginning of forever.


	12. Everything (Sandor Clegane x Reader) Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little drabble about Sandor's feelings for the reader.
> 
> Warnings: None really.
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and encouraged!!

Sandor couldn't believe how much you had changed him. Not that anyone else would have noticed unless of course, you happened to be standing right by his side. In which case, they barely would've recognised the usually gruff and surly man. You definitely brought out his softer side, a softer side which until recently, he didn't know existed. You had come waltzing into his life at a time when he was completely lost, he felt useless and worthless, utterly listless without any desire for any kind of happy life. He felt as if he deserved nothing and so he went about his life seeking nothing. And yet, you found him and gave him everything.

The first time he saw you, you came strolling towards him with a plate of food and a cup of ale in your hands and absolutely no apprehension or fear on your pretty features as your eyes fell upon his face. Placing down the axe beside him, he took the plate from your hands and as he reached for the ale, his fingers brushed against yours, setting alight the barely smouldering embers that remained in his heart, sending his thoughts awry with unfamiliar feelings of both sentiment and desire. Amazed that you didn't cower away at his touch.

You were his complete opposite in every way, you were friendly and chatty, sweet and even-tempered and probably the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes upon.....and you were his. Sandor still found it hard to believe, it seemed impossible to him, that you, as perfect as you are, loved him. The very first time you touched him tenderly, he felt his heart speed up and come to life as if it had never truly had a heartbeat before. And the way you smiled at him, with nothing but love in those stunning (EC) eyes as you placed a gentle hand to his ruined face, never failed to have his breath catching in his throat, barely able to contain the overwhelming need to take you in his arms.

With a little shake of his head, Sandor brought his thoughts back to the present moment, standing in the doorway, watching as you moved about the kitchen cooking his favourite meal, unable to stop the endearing smile of adoration from spreading across his lips. Never in all his life had he felt such warmth and wonder for anybody. You had so many new feelings simmering away inside of him, he didn't know what to do with them, but somehow, for some unknown reason, you were willing to show him.

Finally, you looked up and saw him, bringing the most exquisite smile to your lips and he could barely believe it was just for him. Standing there as he returned your smile, the space between you suddenly grew unbearable and without a thought, his legs closed the gap in long, brisk strides, bringing him to your side. With a gentle hand, he took a lock of your soft (HC) hair between his fingers, placing it behind your ear and connected his lips to your forehead in a sweet and tender kiss. Taking you in his arms, he heard you hum with delight, the sound was complete and utter bliss to his ears, he wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. Stretching up on your toes, you extended your face towards him, your lips requesting a kiss in the most inviting way. And as he grabbed you firmly around the waist, he lifted you up placing his lips to yours with a tenderness he reserved only for you, realising that with you his life would quite thankfully, never be the same again.


	13. Conflicted (Ramsay Bolton x Reader) One shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsey is conflicted by his feelings for the Reader.
> 
> Warnings: Usual Ramsay warnings, he has terrible and evil thoughts about the reader (Violence, sexual assault etc)
> 
> A/N: Ramsay is not a character I thought I would ever write for (I've never been into bad boys), I doubt I will make a habit of it, but this idea has been floating around in my head for a while, so I thought I may as well write it down.

Ramsay didn't like it, didn't like it one little bit, yet he felt utterly powerless to do anything about it. Never, in all his life had he felt so conflicted. It all began less than a month ago, when a pretty little servant came to work at Winterfell. At first, he had no contact with her, she would go about her work without a fuss, but she was impossible to ignore. There was no denying she was beautiful, probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. At first he just watched her, watched her go about her chores and immediately his despicable thirst began, he would stand there watching her and take delight in her discomfort as she cowered a little under his gaze. Imagined himself grabbing her by her braided (HC) hair, roughly pulling on it as he hunched over her, making her cringe. When the sun went down and he was alone in his chambers, his evil thirst only grew, imagining himself pinning her down on a bed and staring into her scared and fearful eyes as she begged for him to stop and let her go. And once he was finished playing all his horrible little games, he wanted to introduce her to his hounds, watch her run with them, until she could run no more and only then would he finally put her out of her misery. Yes, he was going to have fun with her.

No longer could he just watch her from across the room, the thoughts in his head had taken him as far as they could, he needed the real thing now. Walking into the hall he saw her, kneeling by the fire, stacking logs into neat piles by the wall, "Servant girl, leave that and come here. I need you for something." Putting the log aside, she stood up with hesitation and made her way over and already Ramsey could feel his pulse quicken with anticipation, feeling an evil smile spread across his face. Every step she took was timid, but Gods she was stunning. After weeks of watching her, he had learnt much. This girl was sweet and quiet, weak and fragile, she was everything he was not and he couldn't wait to break her.

When she came to a stop in front of him, her eyes were on the floor, she didn't want to look at him and it gave him so much joy. Placing a finger to her chin, he left it there a moment taking pleasure when she cringed under his touch. In a sickening sweet-voice, he asked, "What's your name, beautiful girl?"

Ramsey could feel a rush of blood through his veins as she began to lift her head, he wanted to see what colour eyes she had and the terror they held within them, but what happened next left him speechless and confused. The sound of her voice came first as she answered him, "(YN), my Lord," and it had his thoughts going hazy, his body unable to find a breath in his chest. And when her eyes looked upon his, he felt as if a warm gust of wind had come along and knocked the air completely out of him. Her beautiful (EC) eyes stared into his and yes, he did see terror in them, she looked utterly terrified, yet all the pleasure he had felt only moments ago had completely washed away. Unable to take his eyes from hers, he saw more than just terror, there hiding behind the surface was a quiet defiance and bravery, she was scared, yet she wouldn't look away. Ramsey didn't know what to do, he had all these strange and foreign feelings swimming around his head, feeling an ember of warmth flicker to life in his chest and he tried to shake them away, but they refused to budge. Still, he couldn't take his eyes from hers and the mere thought of causing her harm, now brought a physical pain to his chest.

With an ache growing in his head, he turned and left the hall, leaving her standing there both confused and relieved at his strange behaviour. Alone in his chamber, he sat on his bed and closed his eyes, trying to remember all the horrible thing he wanted to do to her, but his mind refused to play his awful little games. Instead, he found himself wondering how it would feel to wake up with her sleeping peacefully in his arms and imagined himself making her laugh, instead of cry, wondering how it would feel to kiss her tenderly or run his fingers gently through her hair. And the thing that surprised and confused and angered him the most, was the fact that he found himself smiling affectionately at the very thought.


	14. Gone (Jon Snow x Reader) One shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon becomes concerned when he can't find (YN) after a battle.
> 
> Warnings: There is angst, lot's of angst as Jon deals with the death of the reader. There are also descriptions of the reader's dead body. It's a pretty heavy piece, please read with caution
> 
> Hope you enjoy and please, feel free to drop me a message, feedback is always welcomed and encouraged.

Jon made his way around the battlefield praying to the gods that he wouldn't find you. The battle was long over, he was exhausted and bleeding and needed to seek attention from the healers, but he had not seen you since the battle had ended and the feeling of dread growing in his chest was beginning to consume him. Around him, the snow-covered ground lay littered with the bodies of wights, their rotten flesh hanging from their mangled bones. Beside them lay his soldiers, their blood-soaked lifeless bodies waiting silently for someone to set them alight with flames and save their souls from the bony grip of the Night King.

Somewhere in the middle of battle, he lost you. One moment you were fighting by his side, the next moment, he was piercing a white walker with longclaw, watching him shatter into a million pieces, before turning around and finding you gone. Silently he hoped he would not find you, that he would return to the camp empty-handed and find you waiting for him by the fire in your tent, a smile gracing your lips just for him. Inhaling deeply, he lifted his head to the sound of Tormund calling his name, his voice sounding disturbed and upset, looking in the direction of his voice, Jon saw him standing there his shoulders visibly slumped and his head hanging to the ground as he once again called out Jon's name. Despite the heavy thumps in his chest, Jon could feel his breaths growing shallow, his stomach dropping at the sight of a body lying motionless at Tormund's feet, his own feet feeling as if they were frozen solid to the ground beneath, unable to move him forward.

Jon didn't know how his legs got him moving, yet they did and the closer he got to Tormund the more he wanted to turn around and run, but he couldn't, he had to know, was it you? With unwilling eyes, he dropped his gaze to the ground, instantly recognizing the cloak that was wrapped around your unmoving form, his throat restricting the flow of air to his chest and his heart feeling heavy with the worst kind of dread. Falling to his knees, he picked your breathless body up into his arms turning you around, he needed to see your face, your skin so pale and cold as your (EC) eyes, which were once so beautiful and full of life, stared back at him dull and hollow. Unable to bear the sight, he took a gentle hand and closed them for you, never to open again, the mere thought sending his body numb.

With tender fingers, Jon brushed the dirt from your cheeks and it would have been easy to think of you asleep. Your face was now clean, there was no blood and your (HC) hair fell in soft locks around your peaceful features. Moving his gaze over your body, you looked unharmed but for a single wound piercing your torso, there was no flow of blood and your clothes were barely drenched in red. Placing his fingers to your wound it felt cold and frozen, the snow sealing over your flesh as you had fallen to the ground. Pulling you into his chest, he felt despair wash over him, sorrow filling every thought in his head and every fibre of his body, your arm hanging to the ground, moving limply with every heave of his grieving body.

Cradling your head under his chin, he wondered how he would go on without you, you had been his life for so long now and suddenly you were gone, gone forever. Never would he see you smile again, never hear you laugh and never hear you cry, never touch your warm and inviting lips with his and never grow old with you. Standing up he held you tight looking around the field listlessly not knowing what to do, not knowing where to go, taking steps back and forth leading him nowhere, yet unable to stand still his grief rendering him helpless. Once again, he fell to his knees his legs collapsing from under him, his body falling into the fresh white snow, still holding you against his chest. Laying there, he welcomed the soft, cold powder as it enveloped him, surrounding his body making him feel numb, hoping and praying it would let him feel nothing. Yet, realising with monopolizing despair that nothing would help him, you were gone and you were gone forever.


	15. Highborn Love (Tormund Giantsbane x Reader) One shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund falls for a Lady of the South, even though she is soon to marry a Lord.
> 
> Warnings: Angst, swearing.
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

Tormund wasn't accustomed to the ways of the South, Lords and Ladies, rules and regulations, it was all too complicated for him. So when you came breezing into his life, you were like a breath of fresh air that knocked him from his feet. You were a lady, there was no doubt about that with your pretty dresses and perfect hair, you couldn't be mistaken for anything else. Then there was your clever mind and quick-witted tongue, they had given him hours of knowledge and amusement since the day you met and he doubted there was a man or woman alive who could rival you. But never in all his years did he think he would fall for a southerner, especially one like you, it was clear to anyone north or south of the wall that you were highborn, the highest of highborn. It was in the way you spoke, the way you walked, the way you rode your horse, even the way you sat and ate your supper, everything about you left no doubt of the countless hours you must have spent in training.

Yes, you definitely were a Lady, though somehow you were easy going and down to earth, yet at the same time so charming that you even had 'him' blushing from time to time. So many other Ladies barely even tolerated the free folk, not you, from what Tormund could see, if someone was good and genuine towards you, you were the same in return. Nevertheless, what he loved about you most of all was your low tolerance for bullshit and you never let anyone walk all over you, or others for that matter. For all your feminine and ladylike ways, you were strong and able and even capable of putting him back in his box, whenever he got carried away with things. You were so calming too, your soothing tone and level headed words never failed to pacify his fiery temper. And now he simply couldn't imagine a life without you.

So, as he lay there silently beside you, watching you sleep so peacefully with your hand upon his chest, he felt his heart grow heavy with despair. Tormund had always known this day would come, he just never expected it to be so soon, he always told himself to enjoy you while he could, knowing that one day you would be shipped off to marry some highborn Lord. Shaking his head, he moved your soft (HC) hair from your beautiful features, all this time thinking he had accepted it, but no, waking up beside you today for the very last time had a searing jealousy burn away in the pit of his stomach, spreading throughout every limb of his body with growing momentum. Tormund wanted you for himself and he wanted to give himself only to you and the very thought of some fucking highborn Lord, laying his hands on you in all the same places his hands had been, left nothing but rage in his head and hollowness in his heart.

Watching you stir from his gentle touch, he laid to memory your every movement, every sweet feature on your waking face, every speck in your sleepy (EC) eyes and every rise and fall of your naked chest. Drinking in the sight of your beautiful soft lips as you yawned, wishing he could see it all every morning, until his very last breath. As you nestled back in beside him, he rested his head on yours, feeling your fingertips gently tangle in his beard. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, exhaling a jagged breath as you moved your hand to the side of his face, reaching up in search of his lips. At first, the kiss was tender and sweet. Reminding him of everything he would come to miss, yet as you rested your body on his, slowly the kiss transformed, filling with passion and rising urgency, leaving his thoughts in a wild mess caught somewhere between helpless emotion and desire. Pulling your lips from his, your chest was heaving with breathlessness, taking a moment to catch your breath you looked at him with unwavering eyes, your features filled with unbreakable resolve. At the sight, Tormund felt his heart pounding hard in his chest, his rough hands reaching around the small of your back, pulling you impossible close as you leaned down and spoke against his ear. The words as they left your lips making it feel as if the sun was shining upon him for the very first time. "Tormund, I can't do it, I can't marry him.... I will only ever love you!"


	16. Carrying Jon Snow's baby would include (Headcanons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: This is my first ever headcanon, Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

-When Jon finds out you are carrying his child, he is thrilled and apprehensive all at the same time. The very thought of a baby of his own completely warms his heart, yet his head keeps telling him it's wrong. Being a bastard was hard enough and he imagined being the child of a bastard would be even worse.

-You telling him there is no one else in all of the seven kingdoms that you would want to have a child with, or the whole world for that matter.

-Your declaration making him feel a little more at ease, but his guilt still niggles away at him.

-Having never imagining himself being a father, the thought utterly terrifies him. You reassuring him that he will make a wonderful Daddy, if he can be responsible for all the people of the North, then one tiny baby should be easy.

-Jon never wanting to leave your side, but when his other responsibilities can't wait he leaves Ghost beside you to follow you around.

-Jon calling for the Maester, every time something new happens, making sure it is normal and nothing to worry about.

-Sitting beside you to offer comfort when you are sick, bringing you herbal tea settle to your upset stomach.

-Back tickles, endless back tickles and foot rubs

-Sneaking down to the kitchens in the middle of the night for you, whenever you are hungry or craving something strange.

-In private his hands always, I mean, always rubbing your growing tummy, smiling in absolute wonder at the tiny movements under his fingertips.

-Sometimes in the morning when he thinks you are asleep, he will place his lips near your belly, whispering a sweet good morning to your little bump.

-Never one for PDA, you are often surprised when he places a gentle hand to the small of your back in public, unable to stop a little smile from gracing your lips.

-When the due date approaches, he rearranges his days time to make sure he gets everything of importance out the way, hopefully leaving him free to be by your side when the little one decides to arrive.

-When your water breaks at his feet, his expression is priceless, it's terrified, excited, apprehensive and thrilled, all at the same time.

-When the Maester tried to send him from the chamber, Jon gave him a single look a look and the message was clear, 'If you think I'm going anywhere, you've got another thing coming.'

-He is in absolute awe of you and your strength. Sitting there, he holds your hand with without complaint, watching his fingers turn blue at your grip.

-Wiping the sweat from your forehead.

-Wishing there was more he could do to ease your pain.

-When the little babe finally arrives, he sits there in wonder of the little gift you have given him. Holding the tiny bundle of bliss in his arms, he leans over and kisses your forehead, wondering how on earth he deserves you and the new little life you had given him.


	17. Carrying Tormund Giantsbane's baby would include (Headcanons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

\- When you tell Tormund you're carrying his child, he grows a big cheesy grin that melts your heart. Picking you up in a great big bear hug, he spins you around in his arms and gently places you to your feet again before landing a heartfelt kiss on your lips.

\- After both of you decide to wait a while before telling everyone your news, you walk into the hall to find Tormund announcing it to everyone.

\- At first you're mad, but when you take one look at his proud and ecstatic face you can't help but laugh, shaking your head in amusement.

\- You get so sick and he hates to see you suffer, so he goes and seeks advice from some of the older free folk women, finding that one of their remedies really helps you. He has it ready for you every single morning before you wake.

\- From the very first day he found out he began talking to your belly, he gets down on his hands and knees, showering it with kisses, telling the baby he can't wait to meet him and how much his mother and father love him already.

\- He constantly tells everyone how big and strong his son will be.

\- Yes, he is adamant that it's a boy, but you know very well that if it's a baby girl, she'll have him wrapped around her tiny little fingers.

\- When the baby responds to his voice, his heart fills with joy and his smile spreads from ear to ear, looking to you with eyes full of amazement, keeping his hands on your bare belly waiting impatiently for more movement.

\- When nothing happens, he talks some more making the baby move again and the process starts all over. He could honestly waste away hours doing it.

\- He absolutely adores your growing bump, finding it hilarious when your belly button begins to stick out. Every day he comes up behind you and reaches his hands around your middle, tenderly rubbing your tummy as he places his chin to the top of your head.

-He has always been fiercely protective of you, but now if someone even looks at you the wrong way they had better watch out.

\- When it's almost time for the baby to arrive, Tormund becomes very impatient, almost bursting at the seams from excitement, constantly placing his lips to your belly, telling the little babe to hurry up.

\- Refusing to go anywhere for any reason as the birth draws near. There was no way in the he was going to miss it.

-Secretly being a little worried after losing babies north of the wall, hoping that life for this little baby will be much easier on the southern side.

\- Always telling you what a wonderful job you're doing nurturing and growing his baby, kissing and hugging you all... the... time...

\- Lovingly rubbing your back when it's sore. And it's sore all the time.

\- When the day finally arrives, he is surprisingly calm taking charge and giving you all the support you need. As a first time mother you have no idea what you're in for and while his soothing manner surprises you, it is exactly what you need.

\- Constant praise as you soldier on through the birth, his pride in you written clearly in his eyes.

\- Finding the sight of him holding your newborn baby girl snuggly in his strong and protective arms being the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

\- Watching as he carefully brings her over to you, laying her at your breast before covering her tiny robust body with a fur.

\- Then running gentle fingertips across her silky hair before looking to you, his eyes filled with pride and awe in you both, his words bringing a smile to your lips, "She's kissed by fire."


	18. Carrying Sandor Clegane's baby would include (Headcanons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

\- When you tell Sandor you're carrying his baby, he goes painfully silent making you wonder if he is upset, but when you take a moment to look in his eyes you can see they're filled with undeniable joy.

\- Placing his large hands over your hips, he pulls you close before moving his arms around you, almost as if he was protecting you from harm.

\- Finally he spoke, his voice quiet with emotion, "I didn't think I'd ever have kids."

\- Seeing his face transform from amazement to apprehension, you placed a hand to his cheek, knowing what thoughts were running through his head. He was worried about making a terrible father.

\- "You're going to make a wonderful father, Sandor," giving him a little wink, you added, "If not a little grumpy, but I know you will love your child with all your heart."

\- Giving you a half smile, he leaned down to kiss you, just a little kiss but it was his way of showing you he was happy.

\- Early on, when everything made you sick, he surprised you by sending for the Maester, asking him, "Is there anything to stop her from chucking?" You were so unwell and tired, but you couldn't help but laugh at his bluntness.

\- Being concerned about making love, he was worried it may cause the baby or you harm. You having to assure him that it was fine, in the end having to get the Maester to speak to him about it. You had never seen him so embarrassed.

\- Even though he never said it, you could tell he loved your growing belly. Often he would come up behind you just to give you a cuddle, resting his hands on your tummy and rubbing tenderly in circular motions.

\- If he ever thought you were doing too much, he would pick you up in his arms and carry you to your favourite chair before plonking you down, "will ya just rest, the chores can wait till tomorrow." After resting your eyes for ten minutes, you would open them up to see him finishing whatever you had started.

-As the birth drew near, you could see his apprehension and excitement grow, never wanting to be far from your side and making sure, you had everything you needed and wanted.

\- When the day finally arrived, you had never seen him so nervous, the concern was written all over his face, realising he was worried about losing you.

\- He hated seeing you in so much pain, in the end, the Maester sent him from the room.

\- If you weren't so preoccupied, you would have heard him outside your chamber pacing up and down the hallway. Every time he heard you scream, he wanted to barge through the door and make sure you were okay.

\- When he heard the baby cry out for the first time through the door, he felt his heart sore, it was the most welcomed sound he had ever heard.

\- After waiting what felt like an impossibly long time, he rushed into the room sighing with relief at the most beautiful sight in the world. There you sat holding a precious bundle wrapped in furs, looking up at him with exhausted yet joy filled eyes.

\- Crossing the chamber, he wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead before placing a kiss to your hair. With a smile, you passed the tiny bundle into his arms, watching as his expression filled with awe, your words bringing the sweetest smile to his lips, "My love, say hello to your son."

\- Sandor was hardly one for words, but he doubted there was even a way to express what he was feeling.

\- All he knew was this tiny little person who he had only just met, owned his heart. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep him safe from harm, knowing his life was forever changed, never wanting it to return to the way it was.

\- Looking up to you, he gave you a smile you had never seen before, his eyes filled with gratitude and pride. Leaning down he kissed you again, this time on the lips, his two simple words bringing a tear to your eye and a lump to your throat, watching him inhale deeply, he barely spoke in a whisper, "Thank you."


	19. Carrying Robb Stark's baby would include (Headcanons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

\- When you first tell Robb you're carrying his child, you just casually blurt it out one morning in bed, taking him completely off guard. Stopping mid-sentence he laid there silently for a moment completely lost for words.

\- Once the news sunk in his face erupted into a huge smile, his hand automatically resting on your belly. Leaning over he gave you the sweetest kiss, pulling you into his chest as he spoke, his voice heavy with emotion, "I can't believe it, I'm going to be a father."

\- For the first few months, you were always sick and Robb was so sweet doing anything he could to help. Every morning he would bring you your special tea and biscuits, knowing it helped you to eat something before you got out of bed.

\- And sat beside you gently rubbing your back whenever you were bent over a bucket being sick, giving you a glass of water afterwards.

\- He was very impatient waiting for your belly to grow.

\- When it did, he loved to sit you on his knee, snuggling you against his chest as he rested his hand over your belly button. He honestly fell asleep more than once while doing it, his face holding such an adorable smile

\- Always talking to your growing bump, resting his lips against your tummy every morning, "Good morning, my Little Wolf."

\- Never wanting to let you out of his sight, but when he needed to he would make sure that someone he trusted was always by your side.

\- Greywind being extra protective of you too, finding him overly interested in your belly, always sniffing and gently resting his head upon it.

\- Robb always wanting to spoon you in bed, loving to rest his arm protectively around your growing middle. Absolutely loving it when the baby would kick against his hand.

\- Never failing to be amazed by the tiny movements under his fingertips.

\- Constantly making you rest when he could tell you were getting tired.

\- So many massages, in the morning, afternoon and evening, whether it's your feet, back, neck or head, anything to make you feel better and more relaxed.

\- Constant visits from the Maester at Robb's request, because he always wanted to make sure everything was okay.

\- When you became overly emotional, which was quite often, he would always know exactly what to say or do to stop your tears, gently wiping them away from your eyes.

\- Growing impatient as the birth approaches, getting down on his knees to speak to your big belly, "Hurry up Little Wolf, your Daddy wants to meet you."

\- When your water breaks in the middle of the night, he jumps out of bed like an excited child calling for one of the guards to fetch the Maester, telling them to be quick.

\- Sitting on the bed beside you, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down, mostly for your sake, rubbing your back in soothing circular motions.

\- When the Maester arrives, Robb makes it clear straight away, that he will not leave your side.

\- As the labour continues, he is amazed at your strength and will power, feeling his pride in you overflow.

\- Finding it a tiny bit amusing when you cuss under your breath and call him names, you're normally such a Lady.

\- The look on Robb's face when he sees his 'Little Wolf' for the first time, takes your breath away, it is a look filled with so much love and pride.

\- Looking to you, he can't help but smile feeling so much love and gratitude that you could grow and nurture such a tiny little bundle of perfection.

\- When the Maester announces, "It's a healthy little girl," Robb gently squeezes your hand, leaning over to place a heartfelt kiss against your lips, moving your damp hair from your face.

\- With eyes full of affection, he whispered against you're ear, "Thank you so much, my love, she is perfect."


	20. Carrying Gendry Waters' baby would include: (Headcanons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

• When you first tell Gendry you're carrying his baby his face washes over in shock.

• Before long a little smirk plays at the corners of his mouth, before breaking into a huge grin.

• Finding himself lost for words he opened his mouth, the only word managing to slip from his lips is "How?"

• Laughing at his silly question you begin to answer, Well... when a man and woman love-"

• Laughing at himself, he stops your teasing with a kiss, pulling you tight into his arms, feeling such unexpected happiness.

• You could never ask for a more sweet or attentive father to be and for a hardworking blacksmith, he quickly became very domesticated. Helping you with whatever he could just to make your day a little easier.

• Doting after you when you are sick

• Lots of belly rubs and kisses as he whispers sweet little words to your unborn.

• Sleeping with a protective arm around your belly.

• Honestly loving your growing tummy.

• Completely amazed that you could grow a whole human in there.

• His favourite pastime is to lay down on the bed with you, watching and feeling his unborn baby move around in your beautiful big belly

• Loving to watch your pregnant waddle as your due date draws near.

• Constant offers of foot and back rubs, when your sore and exhausted.

• Being quite worried about the birth, but trying not to show you.

• As the day draws near he becomes excited, nervous and impatient all at once, you find it quite honestly, adorable.

• You imagining yourself holding a sweet little baby boy with black hair and blue eyes, just like his daddy.

• Him telling you the child would be much better off taking after his beautiful mother, as he places a tender kiss to your lips.

• When the day finally arrives, you are taken suddenly by surprise with a strong contraction, but he is instantly by your side, walking you to your bed.

• At first, his expression is panicked, but one look at your face brings his thoughts together, knowing he must be strong for you.

• When the help arrives they try and send him from the room, but he sits down beside you and takes your hand, placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. Turning to them he shakes his head, "I'm not going anywhere. "

• Being in awe of you as you battle through the contractions so bravely, wishing he could take away your pain.

• Constantly wiping the sweat from your face and moving the hair from eyes.

• When he hears his baby cry out for the first time it takes his breath away.

• The sight of his wiggling little bundle brings tears to his eyes.

• When the perfect little stranger is placed in his waiting arms, his heart fills with an unbreakable kind of love, realising his life has forever changed.

• Placing the little babe to your chest he felt overwhelming gratitude for what you had given him. A tiny and perfect little mixture of you and him.

• Laying down beside you, he ran his fingers gently across his blue-eyed baby girl's silky black hair, placing a kiss to your temple. Wrapping his arm around you both, he spoke, his words choked up with so much gratitude and new, unfamiliar emotions. "She is the sweetest thing I have ever seen, thank you."


	21. Carrying Jaime Lannister's baby would include (Headcanon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

• When you first tell Jaime you're carrying his baby, he takes a step back from you, completely taken by surprise.

• The next moment he pulls you against his chest placing a gentle hand to the back of your head, still in disbelief as a tender smile spreads across his lips.

• 'Finally,' he thinks to himself, 'A baby I can call my own.'

• Placing his fingertips to your chin, he looks lovingly in your eyes, "That's wonderful news, my love."

• You find that he is a lot more careful with you now, always conscious of hurting the baby.

• Lovemaking is much more gentle and sweet.

• You thought he had always been fiercely protective of you, but now... my goodness!

• He didn't often say it, but he loved your growing belly.

• You would often find his hand coming to rest over your belly button, giving it a loving rub as he rested his cheek against your head.

• When the baby kicked against his hand for the first time, his smile spoke a thousand words. It was full of joy, pride and love, for both you and the growing life inside of you.

• On more than one occasion when he thought you were asleep you caught him talking sweetly to your growing bump in the middle of the night. "Hello, little lion, you're jumping around a lot tonight, you're going to wake your sweet mother." Making your heart melt each and every time.

• Your Maester became your most frequent visitor, Jaime wanted to ensure everything was going to plan.

• He was surprisingly very attentive to your every need. Making sure you were eating and feeling well, even preparing your medicine when you were overcome with nausea.

• Bickering sweetly over names.

• Bickering sweetly over the gender.

• Loving to watch you talk and sing to your belly as you sit in your favourite chair by the window. He would remain in the doorway, unable to take his eyes from you, until you would turn around and smile at him.

• As the due date draws near, he jumps at every sound or sudden movement you make, wanting to know if it's time.

• When the day does finally arrive, he provides you with so much strength and support. Refusing to leave your side for even a moment.

• So many words of encouragement.

• Being truly in wonder and feeling complete pride in you. Amazed at your endurance.

• Keeping you cool with a damp cloth.

• After such a long and seemingly difficult labour, the sound of his baby's loud and healthy cry has his heart flooding with relief. You had both made it through safely.

• When the Maester laid the lively little bundle to your chest, he knew there could not be a more beautiful sight in the world.

• Looking up at him, you gave him the most breathtaking smile, as you placed the now peaceful little soul into his waiting arms, never expecting to feel so proud or smitten by such a defenceless and helpless little person.

• Barely able to believe that this perfect little lion was his, his to hold, his to love, his teach and his in both body and name.

• Looking back up to you, he felt emotions he never knew existed, but how could he begin to thank you for giving him a child of his own

• He didn't know, but as he leaned down to kiss you, he knew he would spend his whole life trying.


	22. Carrying Jorah Mormont's baby would include: (Headcanon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

• When you first tell Jorah you're carrying his baby, he is quite honestly in disbelief.

• As the years passed and his age progressed, he never thought he would ever be lucky enough to become a father.

• After the initial shock, he took you in his arms and smiled gently to himself. The very idea of a little you and him warmed his entire heart.

• Nevertheless, he did worry he was getting a bit old to be a good father.

• Taking his stubbly face in your hands, you assured him he was wrong. "You're going to make a wonderful, sweet and doting father, my love."

• Giving you a small smile, he placed his hands over yours, " I hope your right."

• "Of course I'm right, my love. I always am."

• He was very concerned about your welfare. After his first wife suffered multiple miscarriages and ultimately lost her life to one, he fussed over you constantly.

• He didn't want you doing anything that caused any sort of strain.

• Even your morning sickness caused him distress.

• Often you would need to ask him to relax, telling him that everything is going as expected

• After the first few months had passed, you noticed him unwind a little, even noticing him getting a little excited.

• Feeling the baby move for the first time, had him consumed with wonder and amazement. In all his years he had never felt a pregnant belly before.

• He could not explain the feeling that washed over him.

• He could waste the day away, just waiting for a single tiny movement.

• And your growing tummy made him smile, every day you would wake up to his arm resting gently across it.

• As soon as he knew you were awake, his fingertips would tenderly caress your belly, sending sweet shivers down your spine.

• Lovemaking had never been so gentle and sweet. He was so careful, yet so giving.

• Every day he prayed to the gods to keep you and the baby safe.

• Every day he thanked the gods for giving you to him.

• Running warm baths for you every night, to relieve your aching body. Sitting quietly beside you, just in case you needed him.

• As the big day drew near, he felt himself growing impatient and excited, yet dreaded to see you so tired and exhausted.

• When your water breaks in the bed beside him, he practically jumps out onto the floor, half asleep, half panicking.

• Picking you up easily in his arms he moves you to another chamber, placing you gently down into the fresh sheets.

• Running his fingers gently through your hair, he becomes impatient waiting for help to arrive, but he won't let you see that as he whispers sweet words of comfort to your ear.

• Feeling completely unsurprised by your bravery, yet still in awe of you all the same.

• You finding his presence and support very comforting, yet he wishes there was more he could do for you, he felt so useless.

• Seeing his baby for the first time, so lively and healthy, crying with such vigour, made his whole world stand still.

• Looking to you, he smiled a smile like no other, filled with uncontained joy and pride as his palm hit his chest, covering his heart. Unable to find the right words to thank you.

• And when he held his sweet little girl in his arms for the first time, he placed a gentle kiss to her fragile head, realising this tiny little bundle of helpless perfection had owned his heart from her very first breath.


	23. Carrying Podrick Payne's baby would include (Headcanons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

• You and Podrick were eating dinner together when you first told him you were carrying his baby.

• Dropping his fork to his plate he nearly choked and had to have a drink of ale to wash it down.

• "What?" was all he could manage before your words actually sunk in.

• When they did, his face lit up and you sighed with relief. You had never really spoken about starting a family before.

• Not that you were really concerned anyway, Pod had always been a total sweetheart around children.

• Standing up, he moved around to your side and took your hand, gently guiding you to your feet.

• After giving you an excited cuddle, he held you at arms length. "Wow, I didn't expect that, but what wonderful news."

• He had always been very sweet, but now, he was somehow even sweeter.

• Always checking if you felt okay, making sure you were eating and sleeping enough.

• Lots of cuddles.

• Lots of sweet kisses.

• Lots of evenings in his arms, thinking up all your favourite names together.

• Lots of belly rubs and kisses, he just loved that growing tummy.

• Feeling forever impatient and excited to meet his little baby.

• You constantly talking to your growing bump, telling your unborn baby that their father will be the sweetest kindest father they could ever wish for.

• Pod hearing you one day, unable to wipe the smile off his face, as a lump formed in his throat.

• Coming up behind you, he wraps his arms lovingly around your tummy.

• Leaning his chin upon your shoulder, he rubs your bump and speaks, his voice heavy with emotion, "And your mother is the sweetest woman to ever exist, she already loves you so much."

• That was when he felt the baby move for the first time and he couldn't hide his excitement.

• Whenever the baby reacted to his voice, he would get down on his knees and kiss your belly, "Hello, little one."

• The bigger your belly got the more he loved it, with an ever-growing smile, he would say, "He's getting so big and strong."

• Giving him a smile of your own, you would reply, "Are you so sure it's a boy?"

• Placing his lips to yours in a fleeting kiss, he admitted, "No, I have no idea, but I keep imagining a little boy."

• He felt so protective of you and was so grateful that he was now rather competent with a sword.

• He loved to come to bed when you were already asleep, loving to watch you hold your belly as you slept so peacefully. Sighing, he would shake his head, unable to believe that you love him.

• When you went into labour, he somehow managed to remain calm for you, after having squired for some rather difficult, yet lovable individuals, you were a piece of cake.

• And he was so impressed with just how well you handled the pain.

• Giving you a hand to squeeze or a face to yell at whenever you felt the need.

• Rubbing your back, while giving sweet words of encouragement.

• And the moment his little boy arrived into the world safe and sound he felt his heart double in volume, instantly filling to the brim with wonderful new emotions.

• Watching as the maester carefully placed the crying babe to your breast. Amazed when his cry's faded to contentment at the familiar sound of your beating heart, wondering if it was even possible to love two people more than he loved the pair of you.


	24. Carrying Oberyn Martell's baby would include (Headcanons)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None, unless breastfeeding bothers you.
> 
> A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

• When you first tell Oberyn you're carrying his baby, he smiles quietly, almost as if he is proud of himself.

• Taking a slow step towards you, he places his hand gently against your cheek, "That's wonderful news."

• Then turning you around he rests both his hands to your belly, holding you snuggly in his arms, whispering against your ear, "You will make a wonderful mother, my beautiful flower."

• After eight daughters you would think he wouldn't be very excited, but no.

• The very idea of sharing a baby with the love of his life, warmed his very soul. It was really quite endearing.

• After bringing eight daughters into the world, he knew all the tricks to help you through your pregnancy.

• He knew all the Dornish remedies for morning sickness and they were really quite helpful.

• He even sent for all the Dornish herbs, just so he could make the remedies himself.

• And when your pregnancy hormones got the better of you he always seemed to know exactly what to say and do to make you feel calm and loved.

• Honestly adoring everything about your pregnant body.

• Whenever he had been away for the day, he would walk into the room and after giving you a sweet kiss he would rub his hands lovingly over your belly. "How are my two beautiful flowers feeling today?"

• He was so sure it was another little girl and yet it didn't bother him in the slightest.

• After all, if the little babe was anything like her mother, then what did he have to complain about.

• Night time chamber activities were quite different than before, but by no means were they disappointing.

• For a man who usually was completely unaffected by the attention your beauty aroused in other men, he was strangely quite jealous whilst you were carrying his baby.

• It was really quite adorable.

• He loved to greet your growing belly every morning with a kiss, speaking sweet words to your unborn.

• When the sound of his voice stirred movement in your tummy, his joy was unmistakable, "Good morning my little flower."

• He was so sure he was having a little girl, that he only considered girls names.

• He knew all the rights spots to massage to relieve your aching body.

• He searched high and low to find food to satisfy your strange pregnancy cravings.

• Being a first-time mother, you were quite understandably nervous, so having Oberyn to support you gave immense comfort, knowing he already had experience with babies and child birth.

• He somehow knew you were going into labour, before you did, coming up behind you he wrapped his arms around your middle. "This baby will arrive before the next sunrise, my flower."

• Sure enough, he was right.

• When your first contraction hit, he grabbed your hands and looked into your eyes. "It's okay my flower, I'm right here, I not going anywhere."

• He's energy throughout the labour kept you going, he gave so much encouragement and praise.

• Even though he was worried the labour was taking too long, he didn't allow you to see his concern.

• When the baby finally arrived happy and healthy, relief washed over him. You were both safe, thank the gods.

• The feeling that flooded through his body the moment the maester announced it was a boy, was indescribable.

• He never realised it would mean so much to have a little boy of his own.

• With a hand over his mouth, he inhaled sharply, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

• Unable to believe it, he moved his hand from his mouth and spoke, his voice barely a whisper, "Show me."

• All alone with his new family, he watched as you sat in the bed you shared together, his newborn son suckling at your breast, unable to contain his joy, his pride and his love, unable to envision a more beautiful or perfect sight.

• Closing the short gap between you he sat down on the bed and leaning down kissed the soft black hair of his newborn son. Then moving your (HC) locks behind your ear, he smiled a smile more happy and content than you had ever seen before.

• His eyes were filled with so much gratitude, pride and love, bringing a lump to your throat as he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion, "Thank you, he is simply perfect."


	25. Having a baby and being with Yara Greyjoy would include (Headcanon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: A tiny bit of angst at the start, if you squint.
> 
> A/N: While writing this headcanon I thought the whole concept would make a great one-shot, what do you guys think? Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

• When you first tell Yara you're pregnant, you're single and unmarried.

• She walks into your chamber to find you curled up in the corner crying.

• Running over she crouched down beside you and spoke, her voice full of alarm, "What's wrong (YN), has someone hurt you?"

• Looking up at her, you saw concern and worry in her eyes.

• Barely able to speak through your tears, you whispered, "I'm pregnant."

• Yara's eyes softened and reaching for your hand she pulled you to your feet, guiding you to the bed to sit down beside her. With gentle fingers, she wiped away your tears. "Why the tears, you've always wanted to be a mother, haven't you?"

• Taking a deep breath, you feel yourself settle a little, making it easier to speak, she had always had a calming effect on you. "I know, but I am unmarried."

• As she looked into your eyes, you saw her own fill with emotion, almost as if she were upset, "I'm sure the father will want to marry you, I doubt there is a man in all of the Iron Isles that wouldn't ."

• "But I don't love the father, or any man for that matter."

• Your words seemed to fill Yara's features with hope.

• Placing a gentle hand to your cheek, she spoke, her voice usually hesitant, "What if I cared for you and the baby."

• Now placing her hand to your belly, she smiled, "I would protect you both and I would love your child like it's my own."

• You had loved Yara for years now, yet you never dreamed she might feel the same way.

• Placing your hand over hers, which still rested upon your belly, your eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of joy, "You would do that?"

• Smiling, she shook her head, "You really don't know?... I love you (YN), I always have ."

• Suddenly the prospect of being an unmarried mother didn't seem so bad with Yara by your side loving you.

• Your love and your pregnancy brought out a softer side in Yara that you rarely saw before.

• She would bring you tea to settle your nausea and hold your hair from your face when you were vomiting.

• She honestly felt excited about helping you raise your child.

• Her excitement grew every time she felt movement under her fingertips as she rested her hands upon your bare belly.

• You were so stunning with the most beautiful pregnancy glow. Although, to her, you had always been the most stunning person alive.

• Sweet and tender kisses to both your lips and your growing tummy.

• She loved to watch you sleep in the mornings.

• During the night you constantly suffered from hot flushes, sleeping with just a sheet draped loosely across your naked body. Looking so peaceful with your arm wrapped protectively around your unborn baby, Yara could have wasted the day away drinking up the glorious sight.

• When you went into labour, she rushed back from the other side of Pyke, mad at her self for leaving you in the first place.

• Rushing into the chamber she reached your side, taking your hand in hers, "I'm sorry I wasn't here, my love."

• When your contraction faded, you looked up and her and gave her a little smile, "You're here now."

• Wiping the sweat from your forehead.

• Lot's of forehead kisses and words of praise.

• Both impressed and proud of your quiet strength.

• Completely taken by surprise by the emotions she felt when the crying babe was pulled from your womb.

• It was instant, the feeling of both love and affection for the tiny and helpless little piece of you.

• The air catching in her throat as the maester laid the crying newborn to your chest, watching as you kissed the top of its tiny fragile head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

• And even though she was yet to hold this new and fragile little person in her arms, she realised with absolute joy that the pair of you were now a very cherished and permanent part of her life.


	26. Trueborn (Jon Snow x Baratheon Reader) Part 1 of 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (YN) is the only trueborn daughter of King Robert and Cersei. Growing up she spent a lot of time at Winterfell, falling for a particular curly dark haired boy. When responsibilities and circumstance separate them they think its forever, but little did they know after a string of tragic events their live's would once again come together for a reason which they are still to understand.
> 
> Warnings: Angst at times
> 
> A/N: Okay, so this was a request from my Tumblr blog (Fallatyourfeet), I haven't included the original request because we changed it up a little. There was quite a lot of information to include, so I hope it flows properly and doesn't feel too rushed or confusing. It was really quite a challenge, so please let me know what you think.
> 
> Please feel free to send me a message or comment, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

In all honesty, (YN) wasn't like other lady's, well, she wasn't a lady at all, she was a princess and her father absolutely adored her. The day she was born King Robert Baratheon, the first of his name, rejoiced as he had never done before. When he first held that tiny yet, perfect little bundle in his rough and beaten hands, he silently promised himself to give her everything she would ever want or need. And he did, indulging her every whim. When she wanted to learn to fight, he provided her with the best newly forged sword and the finest teacher money could buy. When she showed an interest in archery, he brought the country's best archer to the Red Keep, where he taught her everything he knew until she far exceeded the archer's skills. And when she wanted to run and play in pants and tunics instead of pretty little dresses, he told Cersei and the Septa to leave her be, "If that's what she's comfortable in, let her wear it, What harm will it do?"

Out of all his children, (YN) was by far his favourite and by no means did it go unnoticed by everyone around him. It surprised him in the beginning, thinking he would be disappointed that his first-born child was a girl, but she had given him far more joy than either of his sons. However, little did he know that (YN) was his only trueborn child. It was true, Robert had spent most of his time in the marital bed drunk and rather useless, making it easy for Cersei to convince him that Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella were his and not born of incest with her brother. And had Cersei not been so convincing, it would have been easy to guess, (YN) may not have looked exactly like her father, but she certainly carried many of his traits, none of which her other siblings did.

From the day she was born she was a very determined child, too impatient to lay on her back and wiggle around like the average baby, she was walking well before her first birthday and talking from an exceptionally young age too. Both Robert and Cersei was sure it was only so she could tell everyone exactly what she thought, never afraid to speak her mind, even when she knew she was being a little blunt and tactless. And for a young woman who was never really comfortable in dresses and bows, with no real inclination to present herself as the princess she was, gods could she command the attention of everyone in a room. Both naturally beautiful and charming, she never had to try too hard to gain a man's affection and like her mother, she was both cunning and smart enough to use it to her advantage.

All in all, (YN) grew up a very blessed child, maybe her parents didn't really see eye to eye or even get along for that matter, but they both loved her dearly, willing to move mountains across oceans if it meant it brought a smile to her beautiful face.

Yet, her favourite memories came during the summers she spent at Winterfell. From quite a young age, her father would send her there much to Cersei's dismay to spend time with the Stark children. Hoping she would form a bond with the eldest Stark boy, making the transition into their betrothal that little bit easier. Robert could not think of a better match for his eldest child, Eddard had been such a good and loyal friend to him over the years and joining the Crown and the North together with such a match could only help to improve its relationship. Nevertheless, the most important thing was (YN)'s happiness and if young Robb Stark was only half the man his father was then he would make a good husband to his beloved daughter. And as hoped, (YN) did grow very close with all the Stark children and over the years they all grew very fond of her too, Eddard and Catelyn practically considering her an extra child. So the day (YN) told her father she would not marry Robb, was the only time they ever truly had a fight.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riding along the lonely road, (YN) made her way north. The day was dark and icy cold and the black clouds hung low as the bitter wind swept them rapidly across the sky, easily cutting through her many layers of furs. Yet, she barely even noticed as the memory of that awful day circled around in her head. Why did she have to argue with him? She had acted like some spoilt, ungrateful brat, throwing a huge tantrum that even rivalled one of Joffrey's. Shaking her head she sighed, in the end, it had made no difference... her father had died and Joffrey called off the betrothal anyway. It all happened the day her father, mother and the whole royal party arrived at Winterfell, (YN) had already been there for well over a month and was expected to return home to King's Landing with them.

Standing with the Starks as the carriages came through the gates (YN) was feeling excited. Even though she didn't want to admit it, she had missed her family terribly. Well, most of them anyway... Joffrey was virtually impossible to miss, his cruel and spoilt nature making him hard to love. Turning her torso to look behind her she gave Jon a small smile, finding it adorable as his cheeks flushed red and his gaze dropped to the ground, gods how she loved causing that reaction. Turning back around her fingertips ran down the soft fluffy coat of the puppy that slept soundly in her arms. The sweet ball of fluff had almost grown too heavy to carry and had almost doubled in size since the boys first walked through the gates carrying her, along with six other direwolves. There was one for every Stark sibling, Jon included and when he made his way over to (YN) he reached out and handed her the seventh one as Robb walked over with a big smile, "You're practically one of us now, so you should have one too."

(YN) took the crying puppy from Jon's hands, watching as he smiled softly when the little ball of fluff stopped whimpering, snuggling itself into her arms, "Look, she loves you already... it's meant to be. What will you call her?"

Lifting the puppy up, (YN) looked her over, laughing as it wriggled around in her hands, wagging its tail and licking her face. Never had she seen such an adorable creature. "She's such a beautiful colour, it reminds me of a Red Keep sunrise." Holding the puppy to her chest, she looked back up to Jon, "I think I'll call her Dawn."

As she continued along the lonely road she was disappointed when her thoughts strayed away from that sweet memory, instead, returning to the fight she had with her father that very first day he arrived at Winterfell. After all the customary greetings in the courtyard, (YN) was whisked away by her mother and Septa to dress for the King's feast. And because she hadn't seen her mother in such a long time she went without complaint, making her mother wonder if she was falling ill.

Standing there in the middle of her room, all dressed, hair done with the two women fussing over how beautiful she looked, she was grateful to hear a knock upon the chamber door. 'Thank the gods, she thought to herself.'

When the septa opened the door, her father came through, already showing the effects of a couple of ales. Cersei didn't even bother with a hello, simply walking past him with a roll of her eyes, turning to her daughter before she left the room, "You look beautiful my sweet, I shall see you at the feast."

Robert clapped his hands together and nodded his head in agreement, "Of course you do, you are your father's daughter after all." Laughing at himself he sat down on the bed as his expression grew somewhat serious. "Robb will be here shortly to escort you to the feast, he's a strapping young Lord, don't you think?" Already (YN) didn't like the tone of this conversation, feeling her fists clench up beside her. Something told her she was going to her the news she had been dreading for a couple of years now. When she didn't answer, her father raised his eyebrows expectantly at her, "Well?"

Reluctantly, (YN) nodded her head, it was true, he was very handsome and all the girls in Winterfell adored him. From the time they were young children, he had been nothing but kind and respectful and would make a very good husband one day, she had just never liked him in that way. Secretly, her heart had always belonged to another. Unwillingly, she spoke, "Yes father, but why are we talking about this and why on earth is he escorting me to the feast, I know these walls just as well as he does?"

Almost rolling his eyes her father spoke in a matter of fact tone, "You know very well why (YN), do I really have to come out and say it?" After a moment of uneasy silence he cleared his throat looking somewhat hesitant, which was completely unlike him, "Eddard and I have decided it's time to formally announce your betrothal to Robb."

There it was, the words she had been dreading for so long now, spoken from her father's lips, hitting her right in the chest making that unfulfilled dread a cold, harsh reality. (YN) who was normally good at keeping a calm head, felt her emotions take control and even though she knew she would not win this battle she simply could not hold her tongue. "I can not marry Robb Stark. Yes, he is good and kind and honourable, but I do not love him... I never will."

Taking a deep breath she felt her fists clench tighter as she noticed her father's face tense up and turn red, something he had never before directed towards her. His next words came low and stern, almost a warning, " You can and you will... Kings and Queens, Lords and Ladies marry every day without love. I did not love your mother when we wed."

(YN) felt her voice quiver with anger and emotion as she stared him straight in the eyes, "And look how well that's gone for you both... after years of enduring a miserable marriage you still don't love her, you have given each nothing."

Standing from the bed, his eyes grew wide, filling with anger and disbelief, "How dare you, it gave me you, didn't it?"

(YN) took a step back, she knew she had let her mouth run away from her, his last words making it incredibly hard to hold back the building tears. Hating that she was letting her emotions get the better of her, she could feel the tears ready to spill over and down her cheeks. And rather than let her father see her tears, she instead spun on her heels and left the chamber, ignoring her father's calls as she ran down the hall and out the door into the crisp evening air.

Holding up the hem of her dress, her eyes watched her feet take step after step, wishing she'd never agreed to wear the damn thing, running with no idea of where she was going until she ran into something, something that wrapped it's arms around her holding her steady to the ground. When she looked up her eyes meet with a pair of shocked, yet concerned and caring dark eyes. "Princess (YN), what's wrong?" Jon's voice was calm, though she could sense an underlying alarm hidden under its surface.

Letting go of her, he took a step back but did not take his eyes from hers, waiting patiently for a reply as she collected herself. He was really the last person she needed to see after the news she had just received. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, almost fragile, not at all like her usual self, "Jon, I really wish you wouldn't call me that, you know I hate it when you address me so formally."

Taking the fur cloak from his shoulders, he wrapped it around hers and tried to lighten the mood a little, "I know you've never been one for dresses, but there's no need to be so upset about wearing one."

Taking a calming breath, she thanked him for the cloak only now noticing the bite of the cold wind, pulling it tight around her shoulders she sighed with a solemn smile, "How I wish that was all I was upset about."

Without a word his eyes said so much, they were filled with questions, concern and silent offers of support. And that's how it had always been with Jon, he had never been much of a talker but she had always found his dark expressive eyes so easy to read. True to her nature, (YN) came straight out with her upsetting news. Biting down on her bottom lip in an effort to keep her emotions in check, she looked off into the distance, unable to look him in the eyes, for fear her tears would begin to fall. "My betrothal to Robb is now official, they are going to announce it at the feast."

Hesitantly, she returned her gaze to his, finding him completely unsurprised yet deflated, making her stomach twist in knots. Neither of them had ever spoken of their feelings for one another, though she was sure she was not alone in her affection. It couldn't have been a coincidence that she often caught him staring at her. Or when she would accidentally brush her hand against his or give him one of her charming smiles, find him awkwardly looking away as his cheeks flushed the most adorable shade of pink. Giving her a weak smile, he raised his eyebrows as he exhaled a heavy breath, "Well, we all knew it would happen sooner or later."

Maybe it was his words, or maybe it was because she knew she would never get another chance like this, to be alone and unbetrothed with him. Either way, her words came freely, abundant with honest emotion. Taking a step towards him, she grabbed the straps of his tunic, noticing how his body stiffened, "But I don't want to marry Robb... I don't love him, I never have... I... love you."

Jon stood there silent, his expression showing such a mix of emotion, he looked as if he had received the world's most wonderful yet heartbreaking news. Finally, he spoke, though his words gave her no joy or comfort, only adding to the knots twisting in her stomach. Placing his rough hands gently over hers, he removed her fingers from around his straps but didn't let go, holding them softly in his warm palms. "It doesn't matter how we feel... we could never be. You're a princess and I'm a bastard, I have no land, no title, I have nothing to give you." Then dropping her hands he took a step back, looking to the ground as he spoke again, "And even if I did, it wouldn't matter because I'm to heading to the Night's Watch with Uncle Benjen when leaves."

For the second time in such a short space of time, something she had always known would eventuate suddenly became a cold, harsh reality. First the betrothal and now this, (YN) felt her heart compound in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Stepping towards him she placed a hand to either side of his stubbly cheeks, pulling his gaze towards hers, her voice almost breaking, "We both know you're only joining the Night's Watch because you think you are not worthy of anything or have anything worthy to offer." Jon tried to look away, it was almost as if he couldn't accept the sincerity in her eyes, but she held his gaze to hers regardless. "Jon, you have so much to give and are worth far more than any man I know."

Leaning his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes and placed his hands on her waist, "It still doesn't change the fact that I'm a bastard."

With a shaky breath, she whispered, "I don't care... I've never cared." Reaching up she placed her lips to his and at first, he returned her kiss as he gently weaved his fingers through her (HC) hair, leaving her breathless and hopeful... until he pulled away.

Shaking his head, he took a couple of steps back, "We can't do this... you are to be my brother's wife." (YN) opened her mouth to speak, but Jon shook his head again, "I can't (YN)... I'm not good enough for you... I never will be." And that was it, he turned on his heels and left, left her standing there with her heart pounding in her chest as the tears she tried so hard to hold back rolled freely down her cheeks.

And that was the last time she ever spoke to him. For the rest of her stay, he avoided her, would barely even glance in her direction. Even when the day arrived for them both to depart Winterfell, he did not seek her out for a final goodbye and it absolutely broke her heart.

So much had happened since that horrible day bringing her to where she was today, on her way to Castle Black... on her way to Jon. The journey had been long and difficult, but ever determined she had refused to give up. A trip that should have taken no more than six weeks had dragged on for months. It had proven very difficult to travel without drawing unwanted attention and with half of Westeros looking for her it had been almost impossible. After a few close calls, she was nearly captured as she crossed at 'the Neck' and it was then that she decided to take the long and deserted way around the North, it was a long and lonely trip, but it was much safer. And since that decision, the only time she heard her name mentioned was at a tiny inn, amongst a table of half-drunk men in the middle of nowhere, speaking about a rumour of her death. When she heard it, she felt a jolt of guilt in her chest, knowing her mother would without a doubt feel dread and grief at the news, nevertheless she couldn't have stayed in Kings Landing a moment longer.

(YN) knew her mother loved her, Cersei loved all her children equally and there were no conditions to her love, it came without question. It was her most redeeming quality, yet this love had made her do wicked and terrible things, things which (YN) could simply not forgive, starting with the death of her father. From that moment everything seemed to spiral out of control and while her mother rarely acted alone she was always in the background pulling the most important strings. Yes, Cersei was smart and cunning, willing to do anything to protect her children and her family's position in regards to the crown.

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With the death of her king and father everything seemed to come undone. First, Joffrey her cruel and wicked brother was crowned king and then Eddard who was like a second father to her, was first accused of Treason and subsequently executed. If Eddard, a man who was more honourable than any person she had ever met could get executed for treason, she knew her family had to be covering something up. So after a little snooping around, she discovered some things that really didn't surprise her in the slightest. Finding that she was the only true-born Baratheon child, that her siblings were the product of incest and her father had illegitimate children all over Kings Landing and Westeros. All this meant that she was the rightful Monarch and there was not a doubt in her mind that Eddard would have wanted her to be Queen. So in a way she felt responsible for his death, she knew her guilt was irrational, but she couldn't help it.

Not helping the matter was her brother Joffrey. The newly crowned King was an uncontrollable, cruel and heartless brat and it absolutely made her blood boil to see him being so wicked and abusive towards Sansa. And the fact that her mother did nothing to restrain his behaviour had her seeing red. On more than one occasion she was unable to bite her tongue, one particular day she retaliated in front if the whole court. "What a noble, righteous and honourable king you are to treat your defenceless bride to be in such a cruel manner. Tell me, do you think father would approve of the way you treat his best friends beloved daughter." (YN) knew her words would infuriate him, but she didn't care, because being the rather predictable creature he was, meant his anger would be directed to her and not dear Sansa.

Neither (YN) or Joffrey had ever gotten along, he was jealous of her archery and sword skills, of the attention she commanded by simply walking into a room, but most of all his jealousy was fuelled by the affection she gained from Robert. So any chance he got, he treated her very cruelly. Yet, it never really bother her, she saw straight through him, seeing him for what he was, a sad and bitter little boy. But the day he ordered her direwolf, Dawn, to be killed was the day she had enough. There was no reason for it, other than the fact that his usual cruel and wicked games weren't having their desired effects and so he sat on his throne and simply declared, "Ser Meryn, today I feel like killing a direwolf... send one of your men to collect Dawn... and bring me my crossbow."

It was the only time she had let him win one of his little games, letting him see how much it pained her, "Joffrey... please don't do it... Dawn has done nothing, she is a sweet dog."

Thankfully, that's when Tyrion intervened, bringing an end to Joffrey's sick behaviour and Dawn survived to see another day. The whole ordeal upset (YN) too much though and in the end, she decided to send Dawn away, asking Tyrion and Varys to smuggle her away in the middle of the night and release her into the wild as far North as they could get her.

Saying goodbye to Dawn had been one of the most upsetting things she had done and it left her upset for many weeks, but the look on Joffrey's face when she told him she had set Dawn free was priceless, his face turned so red and angry she thought he would burst into flames. It had only been a few weeks later when made his little threat again and sent a guard off to collect her, only to find her pen empty. And it wasn't until he had most of the Kings Guard out looking for the pooch that (YN) decided to tell him. Even thinking about it to this very day, still makes her smile.

Besides Sansa, Dawn was her last real connection to the Starks. Eddard was dead at the hands of her brother and mother, Ayra, Bran and Rickon were either missing or dead and poor Catelyn and Robb were murdered as they celebrated as guests at a wedding. That day was now known as the Red Wedding and (YN) felt convinced her grandfather Tywin Lannister had orchestrated the whole dishonourable slaughter.

Yet, the thing that shocked her the most since her father's passing was herself, her reaction to Joffrey's death. Nothing, a big empty nothing is what she felt at the sight of her brother as he lay dying in his mother's arms. Twisting and withering in pain until the poison took away his last breath. Murdered at his own wedding and all she could do was stand there and watch, feeling nothing, no relief, no sadness, no guilt, no pleasure, just nothing. It wasn't until Cersei looked up to a dumbfounded and confused Tyrion, with eyes full of grief and hatred and started screaming for the guards to 'take him away,' did she begin to feel anything. And still, it wasn't sadness or grief for her murdered brother, it was anger and disbelief that her mother, even in her raw grief believed that Tyrion had poisoned him.

Over the following weeks (YN)'s anger and disbelief only grew, unable to accept her mother's and grandfather's relentless need and willingness to accuse Tyrion of something he clearly didn't do. So when he lost his trial and the following trial by combat, she could not stand by and watch him die. And so the night before his execution, (YN) along with Varys and her Uncle Jaime smuggled him out of Kings Landing, across the narrow sea to the free cities.

After her brother's death, Sansa went missing too and (YN) prayed to the gods that she had escaped to safety, but now with Sansa gone and her dear uncle safe in the free cities (YN) felt truly lost, the Red Keep no longer felt like home. There was nothing holding her there, her father was dead, her sweet sister, Myrcella was happy in Dorne and her innocent kind brother, Tommen was now King and in the manipulative grip of their mother, a woman she still loved but no longer respected. And so, that little bit of guilt she felt knowing that her mother thought she was dead got pushed aside, locked in a little box in her chest. Maybe one day she would open it back up, air it out and deal with it, but for now, her sights were set on Castle Black and all her thoughts were consumed by Jon Snow. Would he welcome her or send her away, would he embrace her or hate her for what her family had done, or would he simply not care at all? She really had no idea. And that was the moment her horse broke through the edge of the forest, her eyes falling upon a monumental wall of ice, bringing an audible gasp at the sight. Yet, as her gaze settled on Castle Black, standing small and proud at the base of the wall, she felt her heart speed up in her chest... because she was about to find out.


	27. Trueborn Part 2 of 3 (Jon Snow x Baratheon Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (YN) is the only trueborn daughter of King Robert and Cersei. Growing up she spent a lot of time at Winterfell, falling for a particular curly dark-haired boy. When responsibilities and circumstance separate them they think its forever, but little did they know after a string of tragic events their live's would once again come together for a reason which they are still to understand.
> 
> Warnings: Some Angst
> 
> A/N: Originally I had only planned on 2 parts, however, I've decided it needs 3, hope you enjoy.  
> Please feel free to let me know what you think via message or comment, feedback is welcome and appreciated.

Jon rolled over and rubbed his eyes, still sleepy and not quite ready to get out of bed. It had been a strange night, tossing and turning, full of weird sporadic dreams, all of which had him waking up at regular intervals. 'Why?' He thought to himself, 'Why (YN)?' Of course he had thought about her over the years, thought about her a lot, missed her, written her letters, letters which he found himself tossing into the hearth rather than tying to the leg of a raven, yet, never had she played on his mind quite like this before. Well, at least not since he received word of her death. That news had made his world crumble, brought all his buried regrets barrelling to the surface, staying with him for weeks, until he slowly began to bury them away again. Then yesterday, out of the blue all those regrets started itching, driving him mad until he began scratching at their fragile surface, leaving them playing on his mind until he went to bed, only to find himself dreaming about the very day that breathed life in to them.

Jon remembered the night well, as if it were only yesterday. It was the evening of the King's feast to celebrate the arrival of (YN)'s father and family and welcome them to Winterfell. Just minutes before the feast was due to start she came bursting through the doors out into the courtyard, completely lost in her own thoughts with seemingly no idea of where she was going. Even when Jon called out her name she didn't hear him and it wasn't until she blindly ran into his arms that the outside world broke through to her. The moment she stopped and lifted her gaze to his, he felt his heart jolt with panic. Never had he seen her so upset... yes, she could be a little hot headed... yes, she could be impulsive, but looking into her expressive (EC) eyes he could see she was close to tears and that was something he had never seen.

Standing there a moment with his arms still wrapped around her, he felt the coolness of her bare skin, the southern style dress she was wearing being far too light and revealing for a northern evening. How he wished he could leave her wrapped in his arms, warm her up against his body, she felt so good there, but it could never be. Reluctantly, he took a step back and asked her what was wrong, addressing her as 'Princess (YN),' she hated it he knew, but he hoped that maybe she would turn around with some smart quip bringing a smile to her beautiful lips. But no, instead she spoke with a fragile voice something to which he was simply not accustom, sending his heart racing, yet still he tried to lighten the heaviness of her mood. Taking his cloak from around his shoulders, he wrapped it around her shivering body and made some silly comment about her being upset with having to wear a dress. But again, his efforts proved useless.

So he stood there and waited... his eyes fixed to hers, trying to read what was going on behind those beautiful distracting lashes, his own head filled with questions and concerns, feeling the need to take her back into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. Never one to hold herself back, (YN) came straight out with the cause of her distress, though Jon noticed how she bit down on her bottom lip as if to stop it from quivering, "My betrothal to Robb is now official, they are going to announce it at the feast."

Jon had prepared himself for the inevitability of this news for a long time now, he had made his peace with it, accepted it long ago. A bastard of the north, a Snow, was in no way fit to even associate with a noble Lady let alone a Princess of Westeros. And yet, never could have he prepared himself for the sinking feeling taking hold of his heart, like the air had been knocked from his lungs. Maybe it felt that way because even though he denied it, deep down he knew how she felt about him. There was never any big declaration of love, as straightforward and curt as she was, she was smart enough to know that there was no fighting her betrothal to his brother, it would be a wasted battle. As a princess and the eldest daughter of the King, she needed a husband of the highest nobility and who better than the future ward of the North. Nevertheless, over the past few summers she spent at Winterfell, Jon had noticed subtle differences in her. Differences that he only noticed around him. The way she would stand just that little bit closer... or brush her hand against his, leaving it linger there a moment before pulling away... or the way she enjoyed making him blush, just by holding his gaze to hers as a charming smile played upon her lips. Never had he seen her act in such a way around Robb and it filled him with both joy and astonishment. However, all that was if no consequence, he was a bastard, with nothing to offer the world, the most he could hope for was an honourable life serving the people of the realm at the Wall.

Sitting up, Jon swung his feet to the floor and ran his hands through his knotty hair, his toes stretching out upon the cold wooden floor. Shaking his head, he sighed, he had to stop thinking about her, if he laid there any longer he would relive that night all over again and he didn't want that. Didn't want to remember her confessing her love... didn't want to remember her telling him he was worth far more than any man... and he certainly didn't want to remember that kiss. The touch of those perfect lips on his... his fingertips weaving through her soft (HC) hair as her own played upon the stubble against his cheek.

Yet, most of all he wanted to forget what came after. The fact that he walked away without ever telling her how he truly felt... that he loved her, he always had... and how he regretted never speaking to her again. Left her standing by the gate at Winterfell, surrounded by her family and friends, yet never looking more alone or heartbroken as he rode off on his horse for Castle Black. Knowing he would probably never see her again and still, he couldn't even offer a single goodbye. And now he could never take it back, never rewrite history, because she was dead... gone forever.

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After breaking fast in his chambers, Jon sat at his desk as Edd handed him parchment after parchment, all of which awaited his signature. It was his least favourite part of the day, though he was soon interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. Grateful for the distraction he called for them to come in, assuming it was someone to inform him about the arrival of the recruits which were expected sometime that morning. As the door opened, Jon stood up and adjusted the straps if his tunic ready to head down to the courtyard and address the new men. Yet, his head snapped up to look at Olly as the young boy's voice sounded from the doorway, "Lord Commander, a woman has arrived asking for you, Ser Alliser has taken her to the hall."

Furrowing his brows together, Jon looked to Edd with confusion wondering who on earth it could be, watching as his friend gently shrugged his shoulders. Leaving his paperwork on the desk behind him, Jon hastily made his way through the door and down the hallway, as thoughts of Sansa and Ayra played through his mind, igniting a small flicker of hope that maybe it could be them. Upon reaching the large heavy doors to the hall, Jon stopped, his hands holding on tight to the handle with his eyes fixed to the floor, unable to explain the strange racing of his heart. Without another moment of hesitation he pushed the doors open, taking a step inside as he lifted his gaze, the sight stopping him dead in his tracks. There, across the hall stood a figure speaking to Ser Alliser. Jon couldn't see their face but it didn't matter, he could recognise that stance anywhere. It was a stance full of confidence and charm... a stance he saw in his dreams only last night... and a stance he never thought he would see with open eyes again. Barely able to process a thought, he watched as she turned around at the sound of the doors closing behind him. Completely facing him now, she took a slow step towards him, it was almost hesitant, a stark contrast to her stance just a moment ago and her expression... it was almost unsure, if not a little vulnerable. With his feet fixed to the floor, Jon felt as if he couldn't move, beginning to think he hadn't woken up this morning at all, sure that he must still be dreaming. Giving his head a small shake, he didn't dare speak her name for fear she would turn to dust and wake him. But then came the sound of her voice... his name slipping from her lips as if she too thought she was dreaming, "Jon?" It was a sound he had missed and almost forgotten, a sound he didn't even hear in his dreams... and he knew right then that he must be awake.

Suddenly the small distance between them felt enormous and his feet that were fixed to the floor just a moment ago, were now swiftly closing the gap. Reaching his arms out, he pulled her into his fold. And nothing had ever felt so good. Moving his hand to the back of her head, his fingers tangled amongst her hair, speaking with hushed lips against her ear... and the words just quietly flowed, "I thought you were dead... that I was never going to see you again... or ever get the chance to tell you I'm sorry." Even through the beat of his own racing heart, he could somehow feel the precious thump.. thump.. thump of hers, sending indescribable satisfaction around his body. "(YN), I am so sorry for leaving you the way I did, I love you... I always have and I never should have left without telling you."

(YN) was silent, yet Jon could feel her whole body settle into his as he spoke, her weight resting upon him like a welcome pile of furs on a frosty morning, leaving him wishing he could stay like that forever. When she finally lifted her head, he saw that her beautiful (EC) eyes were glistening with unshed tears, gods how he had missed those eyes. And the relief he saw in her smile, had his arms squeezing around her just that little bit tighter.

Moving her head back to better see his face, (YN) gave it a gentle shake and spoke, her warm breath reaching his face, filling him with contentment. "Shhh... there's nothing to forgive Jon, I always knew how you felt." Then moving her hand to the side of his face, her eyes grew heavy, "I'm the one who should be apologising... after everything that my family's done to yours.... it's unforgivable."

With a half smile, Jon spoke, his voice bound with sincerity, " I know you had nothing to do with any of that, there's nothing to be sorry for." (YN) could hardly even process the relief she felt at his words or the comfort she gained from his embrace. How she wished she could reach her lips to his, kiss him and start over from the moment they both left Winterfell all those years ago. Yet, she couldn't... for one, there were the onlookers watching her with curious, hungry eyes and two, there was the small problem of his vows.

Breaking her chain of thought Ser Davos Seaworth entered the hall, his expression bewildered as his gaze fell upon Castle Blacks newest arrival. "Princess (YN)? What are you doing here? Everyone thinks you're dead."

'Damn it,' (YN) thought to herself, just as bewildered to see Ser Davos strolling up beside her, she had really hoped to keep her identity a close guarded secret for a while. Nodding her head in greeting, she spoke, "Ser Davos... If you don't mind, I'd prefer to keep it that way." Then turning to the few men in the hall, she addressed them too, her voice commanding, "Do not send word of my arrival to King's Landing, otherwise my mother herself will come to collect me and believe me, you do not want that anymore than I do." With her eyes full of questions, she turned her attention back to 'The Onion Knight,' she hadn't seen any sign of her Uncle's army stationed either inside or outside the grounds of Castle Black, "What are you doing all the way up here, are you with my Uncle?" (YN) watched as both Davos and Jon shuffled restlessly on their feet and true to her nature she didn't mince her words, "Well... spit it out, what's happened?"

Clearing his throat Davos took a sideways glance at Jon before answering, "Ah... Stannis travelled with his army to Winterfell to take it back from Ramsay Bolton... but he... he didn't make it."

Feeling her stomach flip, her first thoughts were of Shireen, her sweet young cousin, "And what of his daughter? The last I heard, the fool had dragged her along with him." Seeing the heartbreak unfold in Davos' eyes was answer enough, she knew then that Shireen was dead. Such a sweet innocent child... gone because her father was a fool. With a deep sigh she looked to Jon, "I'll never understand how Stannis and Selyse gave life to such a sweet, kind and clever girl, she deserved better." Jon nodded his head, telling how Shireen stayed at Castle Black and spent her days teaching a wildilng, 'Gilly' to read. A sad, yet unsurprised smile quivered upon (YN)'s lips, but the mention of 'wildling' peaked her interest, "What do you mean wildling, do you have wildlings here at Castle Black?"

With a deep sigh, Jon shook his head and raised his eyebrows, causing his forehead to crinkle up with stress, the sight making (YN) want to smooth it out tenderly with her thumb. "No, not normally, Gilly was not our... our-" Jon gave another sigh, unsure where to begin, "So much has happened here that you don't know about." Guiding her by the small of her back, Jon lead her towards a table by the hearth. Such a small gesture, nevertheless, (YN) noticed how Davos eyed him curiously, obviously taken back by Jon's over familiarity with 'Royalty,' but she really couldn't care less, in fact she revelled in his touch. "I'll get someone to bring a plate of food, it's hardly good... but I'm sure it's better than what you've been eating. And when you've eaten we can talk."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With her hands cradling a goblet of ale upon the table, (YN) was sure her expression was washed with disbelief and if it was anyone else other than Jon telling her about the Night King and his Wight army at Hardhome, she never would have believed them. And now as the new Lord Commander, he had so many responsibilities and decisions to make, none if which were making him any new friends amongst the men of the Nights Watch. Reaching her hand across the table she placed it over Jon's, " I don't see how you could have chosen any differently Jon, you've done the right thing. It would have been wrong to leave all the Wildlings to die beyond the wall." Reluctantly, she pulled her hand from his and lifted the goblet to her lips, taking a sip before continuing, "And if your brothers here can't see that, there idiots. Even if they don't care about the wildlings welfare, what would be the point of leaving them to die beyond the wall, only to add to the Night King's army... It just doesn't make sense."

Jon found himself smiling, gods how he had missed her blunt and honest manner, never one to shy away from letting her opinions known. Noticing how she nibbled on her bottom lip before smiling too, she asked, her voice laced with curiosity, "What's so amusing, Lord Commander Snow?"

Raising a single eyebrow in her direction, he replied, "Really... You're going to start calling me Lord Commander now?"

(YN)'s whole expression glowed, her words light with laughter, "Of course... after years of you calling me 'Princess,' you finally have a title and I intend on using it every chance I get."

Jon couldn't help but laugh, finding that her moment of her joy, however small, filled his heart with hope, hope that the harrowing events of the last few years and the effects of their last meeting together, somehow left their friendship untarnished. Nevertheless, he wanted more than just friendship, both of them wanted more, yet he was tied to the Night's Watch until the day he died, the realisation squashing that flicker of hope like a brittle egg between a metal vice.

Clearing his throat, he placed his hand upon the table pushing himself up on his feet and lifted his gaze to hers, "Well, as Lord Commander let me show you to your quarters, I'm sure you must feel like a rest. I'll send for you when the meeting is set to start."

Joining Jon on her feet, (YN) grinned and moved around to his side, wrapping her arm around his, squeezing it just a little bit, "What meeting?"

Jon began walking, "I'm sure by now every man in this castle knows that 'Princess (YN) Baratheon' is here." Pointing to the door, he continued, "I've seen a steady flow of curious eyes peering their way in here since the moment we sat down. I think I should just make it official and let them know that under no circumstances are they to alert the 'Crown' that you're here."

(YN) wanted nothing more than to lean her head against his shoulder, "Thank you Jon... oh, I mean Lord Commander, I think that's a good idea." Laughing, she had to admit, a little rest and a bit of a clean up sounded wonderful, barely able to remember when she last soaked in a nice warm bath.

Breaking her from thoughts, Jon added, his voice sounding somewhat secretive, "And afterwards, there's somewhere I'd like to take you."

Gazing at him suspiciously, she waited for him to elaborate, but was meet with a silent yet somewhat awkward smile, as he came to a stop out the front of a door. Opening it up he gestured inside, hovering there a moment looking as if he wanted to say something. After a few more moments of silence, he looked to the floor and (YN) knew he had changed his mind. Instead he turned on his feet to leave, "If you need anything... I'll be just next door."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon and (YN) walked side by side, the sound of their boots crunching in the snow as they made their way towards the mysterious location he had mentioned earlier that same day. Outside was freezing, but having spent so much time in the North now, (YN) barely even noticed. A light dusting of snow drifted upon the wind and the clouds slowly dispersed across the sky, revealing the moon light from above, bringing it's glow upon the misty fog as it gathered in the cold night sky. It was really quite beautiful, yet she was too deep in thought to find any appreciation in it. After leaving the hall, (YN) felt confident that her arrival would remain unreported, easing her mind somewhat. However, the hostility she felt from the men in the room towards Jon, their Lord Commander, created all kinds of unease swimming away in the pit of her stomach. Although, from the moment Ser Alliser found out who she really was, she had noted how his demeanour had changed towards her and it really didn't require much imagination to know why. Ser Alliser hated Baratheon's.... after fighting and losing against them during her father's rebellion, Alliser was given a choice, execution or the Night's Watch and after choosing life at 'The Wall,' he had hated the Crown ever since.

Turning to Jon, (YN) asked, "Where are you taking me, my dear Lord Commander?" Jon groaned, this was going to get old very quickly. Kicking his younger self for all the times he had called her 'Princess (YN)' against her wishes, just knowing she was going to pay him back ten fold.

As he answered, "We're almost there," she froze at the sound of a quiet whimper somewhere in the near distance, catching her complete attention, finding himself smiling as realisation spread across her perfect features.

Shoving gently against his shoulders, she spoke, her face growing emotional, "You have Dawn here... and you didn't tell me?"

Right on cue, Dawn howled at the sound of (YN)'s voice and Jon wasted no time moving forward. Opening the pen he watched as the direwolf bounded out across the snow, practically jumping into her arms, knocking her into the snow as she slobbered all over her face. Laughing and crying all at once, (YN) could barely speak, "Hey girl... you've grown so much... I've missed you... Ahh... I'm sorry Dawn, I'm sorry I had to send you away."

Walking up beside them, he knelt down and ran his hand along Dawn's furry back. "You're uncle, Lord Tyrion sent her here, asked me to set her free beyond the wall. And I did, but she came back with Ghost tagging behind, he had been missing for some time, just wondering about by himself." (YN) looked up to him, as Dawn rested her head against her lap, her expression filled with uncontained joy. Feeling her joy radiate in his own heart, he continued, "They always head off together, but they always come back."

Leaning over, (YN) gave Dawn a hug, for the second time in one day she felt as if a missing piece of her heart had been returned. The hollowness she had felt for a long time now, was fading, leaving her full and hopeful for the future. Standing up she brushed the snow from her dress as Jon began to speak again, "I would like it if you could take Dawn to your chambers, keep her with you at all times. Some of these men aren't to be trusted and I would feel better if-"

Just then, Jon was interrupted by Olly, as the young boy rushed towards them, his voice urgent. "Lord Commander, it's one of the wildlings you brought back, he says he knows your Uncle Benjen, he says he's still alive."

Jon's expression grew wide, "Are you sure his talking about Benjen?"

Olly answered quickly, "Said he's first ranger , said he knows where to find him."

Jon moved swiftly, following as Olly he led the way, turning to (YN) as he left, "Take Dawn to your chambers, I'll come to you later."

Left standing there in the snow, (YN) felt her unease swimming again, felt it churning round and round, something wasn't right. What exactly? She didn't know, but she wasn't about to sit on her bed and wait while she twiddled her thumbs. Reaching down, she gave Dawn a rub behind her ears, "Sorry girl, I'll Come back for you soon." And locking her back up in her pen, she turned on her heels and followed Jon's footprint's in the snow, determined to find out what was going on.


	28. Trueborn - Part 3 of 3 (Jon Snow x Baratheon Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (YN) is the only trueborn daughter of King Robert and Cersei. Growing up she spent a lot of time at Winterfell, falling for a particular curly dark-haired boy. When responsibilities and circumstance separate them they think its forever, but little did they know after a string of tragic events their lives would once again come together for a reason which they are still to understand.
> 
> Word count: 3626
> 
> Warnings: Descriptions of a violent scene/s, Angst, death of character/s, a little bit of fluff.
> 
> A/N: This was a request on my Tumblr blog (fallatyourfeet). The original request was changed up quite a lot, which is why I haven't included it in the description.  
> Please let me know what you think via message, comment or a simple vote, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

With the help of the moonlight (YN) followed Jon's footprints through the snow, heading in the direction of the training yard. And with every step came growing unease, each intake of breath growing more shallow and nervous, suddenly feeling the absence of her long sword which was currently leaning against the wall in the corner of her room. As she approached, she saw a small gathering of men... no wildling and no Jon... just brothers of the Nights Watch and Jon and Olly's footprints disappearing through the middle of the gathering. Moving forward, she felt the need to run, her ever-growing unease now rolling around her entire body... leaving her legs weak and her hands shaking.

Not one of them even heard her coming and when she pushed her way through they took a step back, their faces heavy with shock at seeing her. Yet, she saw none of them, her eyes wide with horror as they took in the treasonous sight before her. There stood Jon hunched over and in shock, his hand clutched over his stomach as blood poured out between his fingertips dripping to the snow at his feet. Ser Alliser hovered to his side his dagger covered in Jon's blood as a different brother grabbed Jon by his shoulder, plunging another dagger deep into his stomach. (YN) screamed... such a murderous sound that rang around the whole yard. Throwing herself forward she pushed the man to the ground with a force that would have normally surprised her, but all she noticed was the look in Jon's eyes as he whispered her name, begging for her to go.

Unable to speak, she grabbed his face and shook her head as she looked him in the eyes, before pushing his hands against his stomach and spinning around in front of him, as if trying to offer her body as some kind of protection. How she wished she had her long sword, knowing she could cut down half of these useless and dishonourable men before they even scratched her. But she had nothing... and as her terrified and enraged glare moved to Ser Alliser, she could feel Jon's desperate yet futile attempts to push her out the way... his blood loss leaving him growing weaker by the second.

Ser Alliser smirked as he took a step towards her and when she refused to drop her gaze, he grabbed her by the throat, "You're brave... I'll give you that... but you're too hot-headed. Nothing but a stupid Baratheon whore."

Behind her, Jon reached desperately for Alliser, his voice weak and pleading, "Leave her... let... her go."

Ignoring Jon, Alliser kept his eyes on (YN), "You're just like your dead father... so ready to fight without a thought." Lifting his dagger, already stained with Jon's blood he held it against her chest twisting it in her tunic, "You should have stayed away... what did you think you were going to do...? Save him with your pretty face?" Slowly Alliser applied pressure, the dagger piercing through her tunic, his smile wicked as she felt it puncture the flesh above her heart. And as he spoke, she heard Jon's anguished pleas reaching her ears, "Everybody already thinks you're dead and no one's sending word of your arrival... so no one will ever know... Say hello to your father for me." With force, he plunged the dagger right through her chest and her whole body tensed up as Jon's feeble cry faded from her ears, her body losing all strength to stand. The only thing holding her up was Alliser's hand around her throat and his dagger in his chest. When he yanked it out, her limp body collapsed onto the snow beneath and with her last ounce of strength she turned to face Jon. Her vision fading to complete darkness as he stared at her with broken eyes, not even feeling each new wound they inflicted to his helpless dying body. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was strange... (YN) knew she was dead and yet she felt as if she was watching a play. The sole audience in a big empty auditorium performing its theatrics just for her. At first nothing made sense, there was just darkness, her thoughts consumed with despair. Not for her own loss of life, but for Jon's... he didn't deserve death and she was confused as to why he wasn't there with her.

Breaking through her confusion and the surrounding darkness, came light. And not some little flicker of light that slowly burnt bright. No. It was light that came from nowhere, filling up every corner and eating every shadow instantly. Warming every finger and every toe upon her hands and feet, washing away every drop of blood from her body, leaving her feeling more alive than she had ever felt during her short life.

Standing there, she watched as a huge ring of fire formed around her. Its flames burnt bright and hot, yet they did not burn, her eyes intent upon the cold frozen mist that appeared before her, watching as it took the shape of an army... a cold frozen and dead army. An army of thousands that seemed to multiply with every blink of her eye, marching its way towards a monumental wall of ice. Flying up high, ahead of the army was a great beast... a dragon, it's body and wings the colour of death and it's beady eyes glowed blue like those of the passenger upon its back. And as it descended towards the wall it breathed blue frozen flames that ripped it apart, sending massive splinters of ice to the ground below as easily as a bolt of lighting against an old brittle tree.

Still the army marched on, steady and patient through the gaping hole in the wall. No longer constrained by it's hidden spells and enchantments, relentlessly marching south and collecting every soul in its path, unceasingly adding to its seemingly unbeatable force. With her eyes fixated upon the growing sea of dead, she didn't notice when the dragon... the giant frostbitten creature and its passenger dissipated into a cloud of heavy fog. Not until it rolled its way around the ring of fire, licking at its edges before reforming at her feet.

One look into the passenger's eyes left her in no doubt of who he was. He was no passenger at all... he was the creator of the marching dead army, the creator of all the white walkers that rode upon the rotting flesh of their lifeless horses. And the creator of the very beast on which he sat... he was the 'Night King' and when he stared callously into her eyes it was as if she could read his every thought... felt his every desire. This was a monster that wanted to suck all life and light from the world... his only hunger was his hunger for death and darkness and destruction. Hovering before her, the 'Night King' glared into her eyes as if to draw all the warmth and energy from her body. Yet she resisted, this time watching as he once again dissipated into another cloud of rolling fog, which now reappeared amongst an entirely different scene.

With horror, her eyes fell upon Winterfell, surrounded by living breathing armies, as the young, sick and elderly took refuge within its walls. In the distant darkness, the ceaseless procession of the dead marched its way upon them. Its numbers vastly outweighing those of the living, it's leader flying high within the clouds, determined to devour them all into a long and endless night. Yet hiding above the clouds, waited light and fire and hope in the form of two more dragons... dragons with intelligent eyes and flames upon their breath. Carrying passengers of their own... waiting for their moment to send their frostbitten brother falling from the clouds.

In the darkness of the cloudy night sky, the three beasts danced, a tangle of wings and claws, fire and ice, as a battle raged on beneath... though it was barely a battle at all. The dead came like a rolling wave, crashing into the living, an unstoppable force, consuming everything in its path. Yet, as the seemingly helpless vision played out before her, she was strangely able to feel there was hope... the opportunity to grasp the light between their fingertips and hold on just long enough to keep the darkness from taking over. And that small ember of hope brought forth fresh visions as the army of the dead went up in flames, turning to ash before her very eyes. The visions were merely a mess of faces forming within the ashes of the dead, some familiar, some strangers and yet she knew they all had important roles to play if they were ever going to survive the inevitable 'Long Night.' Then came an image of another face, leaving her unable to fathom the indescribable relief as the image took shape before her. Jon... Jon was alive and he was riding one of the dragons, strangely looking at home atop of the fearsome creature. Watching as he battled amongst the clouds, fought alongside the other dragon as they both sent their icy brother falling to the ground. (YN) smiled uncontrollably, her emotions a tight knot in her throat as warm tears gathered at the edges of her eyes. Somehow he had managed to survive and would live and breathe to fight another day, hopefully many more days, whereby the grace of the gods they would allow her to witness him grow old and content... to find love and happiness.

Without warning, she felt herself growing upset and confused as the surrounding flames began to wane and the light and visions they provided, slowly faded, leaving her standing alone and vulnerable. Looking around the emptiness, she wiped the gathered tears from her eyes, her confusion slowly dissolving, replaced by a wave of building anger. What cruel god would show her such things, when her body was lying somewhere cold, useless and dead... unable to offer any insight or warning to the battle that lies ahead. Spinning around on her feet, her eyes searched the empty cavernous surroundings, finding nothing. Not one tiny flame or flicker of heat. The comforting warmth the flames had provided turning to ice in her veins, her heart slowly pumping it around her body, spreading it throughout her chest and shoulders, reaching her neck and face, arms and legs. Finally reaching her fingertips and toes... Was this it? Was this the way she was to spend her eternity? A vast and empty nothingness... forever cold and lonely? Just at that moment... when she felt like collapsing into a heap, something took hold of her hand. A gentle, yet somehow desperate grip, wrapped warmly and invisibly around her fingers. And the heat of a familiar whisper... no... a plea reached her ears, ripping her from the surrounding empty nothingness.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon didn't understand any of it. One horrifying moment he watched as (YN) lay bleeding in the snow, watched as her mouth took its final breath and the light fade from her beautiful (EC) eyes. Barely even registering when each wound was inflicted upon his body, or when Olly stabbed his heart through, bringing his own final breath to his lips as his vision and thoughts faded to nothingness. The next moment he found himself gasping for air, his body lying cold and naked on a table, as (YN) lay on another beside him... pale, still and lifeless, clad in just a linen nightgown. And if it wasn't for Ser Davos who came to his aid, stopping his legs from collapsing beneath him when he tried to stand, Jon would have thought he was trapped in some kind of hell. Forced to spend forever in this little room, with constant guilt eating away at him, knowing he was the reason she was dead, her once beautiful, bright and lively face now cold and lifeless to serve as his constant reminder.

Yet, now as he felt the rise and fall of his own chest, it was far worse... it meant that he was alive and she was dead. And she died for nothing... Why? Why would the gods grant him... a worthless bastard of a dead Lord, another chance at life... when they could have saved her..? Jon dropped his head to the table beside hers, his hand gently tangling amongst the hair at the top of her head, his other hand reaching down to pick up hers, speaking quiet words filled with desperation and guilt. "It should be me lying there... not you..." Lifting his head just a little, he leaned his forehead against her temple, "I just got you back and now you're gone... dead... dead because of me..." Sighing heavily, Jon felt a pain like no other, his chest so heavy with guilt, anguish and remorse that he could barely think. His next words leaving his lips without control, meant for any god who would listen, "Take me... Take me now and let her live."

As if in answer to his prayers came a gasp, not unlike his own less than an hour earlier, his body jolting in shock as he jumped to his feet. His eyes in joyous disbelief as they watched (YN) sit bolt upright, her hand clasped to her chest. With wide eyes and a confused expression, she slowly swung her legs to the side of the table, Jon stopping her from any attempts to stand with gentle hands to her shoulder. Her fingers grabbed on to the loose linen of his shirt and he could see she desperately wanted to say something, yet was unable to find any words. In an effort to calm her he gently held the sides of her face between his palms, holding her eyes to his, "(YN)... it's okay... just concentrate on breathing... I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Holding her head between his hands, Jon kept his eyes intent upon hers, using every ounce of his strength to remain calm... for her. What he really wanted to do was to collapse into his chair, pull her to his lap, hold her and never let go, before burying his face in her hair and admitting that he couldn't bear living without her.

Placing her icy hands over his, that still cupped the sides of her face, she spoke, her voice rough and parched and yet it was still the most welcome sound. "Jon... what's going on...? You can't be here... you're not dead." Then her eyes travelled to his chest that lied exposed through his unbuttoned shirt, her fingertips gently tracing around the wound inflicted over his heart, her expression growing distraught and panicked. "No... you can't be here with me... I saw you... I saw you alive at Winterfell."

At the mention of Winterfell, Jon worried that she had lost some of her memory or maybe she had just woken up a little disorientated, but either way, what she was saying didn't make any sense. Taking her hands in his, he tried his best soothe her, "Shhh... It's okay... we're okay... we're here at Castle Black."

(YN)'s eyes flittered quickly around the room, finding it all but empty besides her and Jon. Looking back to him, he watched as her eyes once again stared at the crescent-shaped wound over his heart, before taking a deep breath when her eyes fell upon six other stab wounds around his abdomen. When she finally spoke, he was thankful to hear that her trademark bluntness had returned, "But I'm dead... so that means you must be too." Before Jon had a chance to explain, she spoke again, her expression somewhat perplexed, yet at the same time upset. "I just don't understand though... I saw you alive at Winterfell... And I was so happy, but here you are... with me."

Jon shook his head, calling her name to get her attention, lifting his hands he rubbed along her upper arms. Falling silent, (YN) lifted her gaze to meet his, waiting for him to continue, "Aye, we both died, but the 'Red Woman' brought us back."

Taking a visible breath, she too shook her head, her face layered with uncontained emotion as her body began to tremble. Leaning into him she wrapped her arms around his middle, burying her face in his chest as he carefully guided her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her to keep her from falling. And for the first time in his presence, she cried. Tears of relief falling freely from her lashes, soaking his shirt through... and he held her, just stood there silently relishing the strong beat of her heart. Quite happy to remain there forever if that was what she needed. And when she finally lifted her head from the crook of his neck, he had little control over what happened next. One look into her (EC) eyes, shiny with tears, had him tenderly wiping a thumb across her wet cheek, his fingers gently brushing the wayward locks of hair from her perfect face, before coming to rest at her sides. And before he even knew what he was doing he joined his lips to hers in an eager kiss, leaving them both breathless, returning the colour to their sallow complexions... deciding at that moment that he was no longer a brother of the Night's Watch. His watch had ended... he had given his life once and he would not give it again... not for them.

When (YN) spoke, her expression was laced with false courage and playfulness, yet hidden amongst her words he heard a sweet vulnerability, something to which he was simply not accustom. "You better not walk away and give me the silent treatment this time." Jon gave a soft smile before giving a little shake of his head, answering with another kiss to her lips, now plump from their previous contact, once again leaving them both breathless and adorably flustered. This time when she pulled away, her expression was laced with curiosity, her voice eager and full of questions, yet still her voice was quiet, "Jon?" Resting his hands at the small if her back, he pulled her closer against him, nodding his head as a gesture for her to continue, "What did you see when you were... dead?"

Clearly taken back, Jon could do little more than mumble, "What?"

(YN) repeated herself, a little more pressing now, "Did you see anything... dream anything... while you were gone?"

Jon shook his head, his eyes intent on hers, his surprise and shock easy to read, "No... What do you mean..? Did you see something?"

(YN) bit her bottom lip as she nodded, her voice quiet, yet forthright and Jon hung on to every single word she said. "Yes... I saw the army of the dead marching towards the wall... And the Night King flying high above them on a huge ice breathing dragon..." With a heavy sigh, she continued, "The next thing I know I'm watching the young and old take shelter within the walls of Winterfell as armies gather to protect them from the dead." Jon read the despair in her eyes, the same despair he recognised in the eyes of every living soul at Hardhome, just a few weeks earlier... And he knew then, that what she had seen was no dream born from her imagination. But still, he remained silent, his expression restless for her to continue as her own features lightened with a whisper of hope. Placing her hands to his cheeks, she continued, "Jon... I saw Sansa and Ayra... Bran too... I saw you! That was when I knew you were alive... that you had survived. You were riding a dragon, flying above the clouds with another, as you both battled against the Night King... I watched his ice dragon fall from the sky."

Jon was at a loss for words shaking his head in disbelief, yet believing every word she said. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet, "What... what does it all mean?"

With a small shrug of the shoulders, she answered, her voice flickering with a touch of light, her expression growing in clarity as her thoughts began to make sense. "I not sure, but I felt hope... as though there was a chance to defeat them... and I know you and your siblings have a big role to play in it."

Jon felt his legs waver, the revelations leaving him light-headed. Dragons! Siblings! Visions! It was all too much to absorb. Sitting back down on the chair he pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms back around her middle, her lips touching the top of his head in a sweet kiss as he spoke, "Where were you... in all of this?"

Feeling her shrug her shoulders again, she sat down on his lap and it felt so natural like they had done it a million times before. "It was like the gods were putting on a show... and I was the only one watching... there was so much light and warmth and fire, but I couldn't understand why they were showing me if I was dead." After a moment of silence, (YN) took a deep breath, her words final, leaving no room for questions, as everything fell into place in her head. "But now I know why I died... they wanted to show me there is a chance... to feel there is hope." Grabbing his face between her hands again, she held her gaze to his, "And they brought me back to tell you... It's up to us, Jon... we are the ones... We are the ones who will defeat the 'Night King'."


	29. Not Such A Lady (Sandor Clegane x Reader - One shot)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normally such a Lady, you take Sandor by surprise one day.
> 
> Warnings: Swearing and fluff

Sandor stood in the doorway, his whole body lax and his jaw hanging low, leaving his mouth in a useless state of silence. Never had he heard such language coming from your normally sweet lips, you were always such a lady... Why in the seven hells out of all the men in Westeros, you had chosen him to love... he would never know... but everyday he thanked the gods you did. And now he simply couldn't imagine a life without you in it. But right now, your eyes were enraged, your hands clenched in tight fists at your side and you were clearly holding onto a deep breath in an fruitless effort to calm yourself down. After a moment of standing there motionless, Sandor finally found words, "What's your problem... and what's with all the fuck's 'n' shit's... aren't ya suppose to be a lady?"

Even amongst a lifetime of blunt and thoughtless words, this really wasn't his finest moment. He knew he had said much worse to so many other people, but you...? Never had he spoken to you in such a way.

Your already enraged eyes filled with fire when you turned your attention to him... and he knew he had made a grave mistake making his presence known to you... he was the one you were angry with. And for the first time in his life he found himself wanting to slowly back away.

At the sight of him, you pursed your lips together in a tight line, before you let loose, almost spitting your words from your mouth. "You... YOU!... how many times have I bloody told you not to leave your fucking baldric lying around on the floor, it's going to kill me one day."

It was only then he noticed you struggling to stand on both feet, making no attempts to move from your spot leaned up against the wall. You were hurt... and it was his fault. Stepping into the room, he closed the distance between you in just a few strides, guilt already eating away at him, very well knowing you had asked him a million times to stop leaving his sword on the ground. Gently resting his rough hands against the side of your arms, his voice came through surprisingly tender, "What happened... where are you hurt?"

Still furious, you flicked your head towards the chair beside you, "Your sword... it's bloody caught under the chair... and I tripped on the fucking baldric... didn't I?" Then trying to apply weight to your foot, you winced in pain, "My ankle... I think I've sprained it."

With a deep breath, Sandor cursed under his breath, "I'm a fuckin' idiot," the very thought that he caused you any kind of pain had his chest aching with every thump of his heart.

Reaching down he slipped an arm behind your back as the other one scooped your legs up from under you, noticing how your expression tightened and winced from the movement, though your tongue didn't show the effects, "Yes... yes you fucking are?" Normally, Sandor would have sent a glare your way for agreeing... but he was too upset with himself, instead shaking his head at his own stupidity.

With all the care in the world he placed you into the chair, effortlessly pulling the chest from the end of the bed across the floor, as if it was filled with nothing but air. Slowly and gently he lifted your foot to rest on top, bringing another string of expletives from your lips, Sandor speaking as he knelt down beside you, "I think you've been 'round me too long... my cursin's been wearin' off on you."

Sandor watched you roll your beautiful (EC) eyes, as he carefully undid the laces of your boot, half expecting another sharp comment about his stupidity, as he warily took it off your foot. But instead, you said nothing and looking back up he found you holding your breath, your fingertips turning purple as they clutched onto the fabric of your dress. Never had he seen you in so much pain before... this was going to be bad... and he wondered for a moment if taking your boot off was such a good idea.

Chucking your boot aside, he used feather light fingers to slip off your sock, quietly gasping at the sight he was left with. Your poor ankle was already black and blue, instantly regretting taking off your boot, sure that he could see it swelling before his very eyes. Sighing heavily, he looked up to you, his eyes apologetic and filled with regret, "You're gonna need a maester... I thinks it's broken... but I'm gonna have to bind it up first... before it swells too much."

Getting to his feet, he stood there silently for just a moment before rubbing his hand back and forth across the nape his neck, feeling absolutely guttered that he was the cause of your pain. And in a uncharacteristic display of tenderness and apology, he knelt back down resting his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses touching, his voice barely breaking through a whisper, "Sorry, sweet dove... I'm sorry." Then brushing his lips against yours, he gave you the softest kiss, feeling you respond with the lightest touch to his cheek... and even though he didn't deserve it, he knew in that moment you had forgiven him... no, he didn't deserve it ... and he didn't deserve you... But he couldn't even begin to explain the feeling of relief that your forgiveness had given him. Giving you another kiss, this time to your forehead, he spoke again, "I'll get some cloth, to bind that ankle."

Standing back up, he turned to leave the room, stopping by the doorway at the sound of you quietly calling his name. Turning around, he waited for you to speak, taken back by the look of affection on your features, making his heart swell with wonder. And when you spoke, your voice was heavy with emotion, yet somehow light with jest, your words making him both chuckle and melt. "You're a bloody pain in my arse, dear husband... and a grumpy shit too... but, I hope you know I fucking love you."

Again, Sandor closed the distance between you and leaned down, losing his hands amongst your (HC) hair he kissed you once more. Then brushing his lips along your jaw, they came to rest upon your ear, speaking in a rough and sentimental voice, taking himself by surprise. "I love you too... But if you don't clean up that bloody filthy mouth of yours... sweet dove... I'm gonna have to set you free."


	30. Always and Forever (Sansa Stark x Male/Female Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa calls for the Reader to meet with her in her chambers, leaving them alone for the first time since Sansa left for King's Landing.
> 
> Warnings: I guess a little bit of angst, mostly fluff.
> 
> A/N: This was requested by a male reader who would prefer to remain anonymous. Hope you enjoy.

'Lady Stark of Winterfell....' Sansa had never really expected to hear those words again. For such a long time that person was lost, belonging to everyone but herself, her life and her love not her own... but now she was found, much stronger and wiser than before. No longer willing to sit quietly in the corner, a scared little child, letting everyone else decide her fate. It had been a long road to where she stood today, a road full of grief, pain and torment, yet somehow she did not look back with anguish or self pity. Instead, she looked at how that road had changed her, leaving her thankful... not thankful for the suffering she endured, but content with the way it had shaped her, no longer the self absorbed and naive little girl that left Winterfell all those years ago. And thankful, that somehow that road had led her back to you.

The youngest of a large family, from a minor northern house, left your parents with little to offer anyone in regards to securing you a desirable betrothal. Not that it had ever bothered you, growing up you only ever had eyes for a certain red headed Lady of Winterfell, Sansa Stark... and she was way out of your reach, betrothed to the future King of Westeros.

All that was so long ago and so much had changed, including Sansa. Growing up you had spent almost every winter at Winterfell, sent down from your home in the far northern reaches of Westeros to avoid it's bitter and unforgiving weather. The time you spent there, quickly formed your most favourite childhood memories and your strongest childhood friendship. Sansa was your best friend and yet, over those passing childhood years you soon came to realise that as strong as your bond was, you and her could never be, she was a future Queen of Westeros and you were nothing... nobody. And so, over the years your lives took very different roads, yet somehow, they led you both back here to Winterfell. Leaving you standing nervously before her chamber door.

Standing there shuffling nervously from foot to foot, your fist was clenched tight, hovering before the heavy wooden door. Unable to stop the rapid beating of your heart, you were confused as to why Sansa had called for you to meet with her in her chambers. With a deep breath, you tried to calm your nerves, this would be the first time you were alone together since she left for Kings Landing all those years ago and you couldn't help all the flutters in your stomach from taking hold. With another deep breath, you finally found the courage to tap your knuckles on the door.

It was less than a week, since you fought beside Jon and his wildling army, winning back the North from Ramsay Bolton and putting it back into the hands of the Starks where it belonged. Thankful, that the former Lord of Winterfell could no longer draw breath from the world. What you would have given to spend an hour alone with that evil, sadistic animal. Instead, it was rightfully Sansa who bid him his final goodbye, sending him from the world with tortured screams, crying out in pain as his own hounds fed on his flesh. Freeing her once and for all of any forced loyalty that tied her to his shameful name.

Sansa was a bundle of nerves, though she did a good job of hiding it. Sitting in the bed she had the covers pulled high, staring at the shadows your feet created as you hovered before her chamber door, wondering why you hadn't knocked yet. Moving her gaze around the room she gave a small smile, the flickering candlelight that filtered and bounced off the stone walls was exactly how she had imagined it. And the warm orange glow from the crackling fire only added to the chamber's cosy, inviting atmosphere.

Finally, the knock came, three unmistakable raps of your knuckles. Shifting on the spot in her bed, Sansa cleared her throat, her voice sounding much more confident than she felt, "Come in."

Sansa heard you grab the handle, hearing it shift and jiggle under your fingertips, feeling her heart speed up as you slowly opened the door and slipped through. Watching you lean backyards against the door, she heard the latch click, noticing how you took a calming breath, before your gaze lifted to search across the room, the action bringing a smile to her lips... you were nervous too. Holding a breath tight in her chest, she spoke, "Hello, (YN), I'm over here." Following the sound of her voice your gaze travelled to hers, your expression full of surprise at finding her in bed.

"Sansa, what are you doing?" Your flustered reaction was adorable, god's you were beautiful, but then, you always had been.

Taking a calming breath of her own, she patted the bed beside her, "I'm waiting for you." Running fingers through your (HC) hair, your gaze dropped to the floor, yet she thought she could see you nibbling on your bottom lip, the very thought bringing a dust of pink to her cheeks. "Remember we use to stay up half the night when we were little? Mother would always catch us and send you back to your room, only to have you sneak back ten minutes later."

You laughed lightly at the memory, your shoulders visibly relaxing and Sansa couldn't help but relish the sound. Peeking back up at her with those stunning (EC) eyes, you smiled, yet, Sansa could hear a hint of hesitation and confusion in your voice, "Of course I remember, but we were little children... and... well... I... I don't ever recall you being quite so... exposed." Sansa's whole body flushed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, partly embarrassed, yet mostly flustered by the hopeful look in your eyes. Patting the bed beside her again, this time she pulled back the covers, not willing to give in to her fast growing nerves. Taking a step towards her, you rubbed your hand across your mouth, needing a moment to think, your (EC) eyes breathtaking and intense, "Are you sure?"

Nodding her head slowly, Sansa swallowed thickly, her heart pounding hard in her chest, "I've never been more sure of anything... I have wanted this for a long time."

With quiet steps you reached her side, tenderly placing your hand to the side of her porcelain face and sat down, your thumb running along her cheekbone with a feather light touch. The simple action so intimate, yet so sweet, never had such a touch from any other felt so welcome... so right. Looking into her eyes you shook your head, your expression almost disbelieving, your smile and voice trembling, "Me too."

Sansa's head was awash with unexplainable emotion, her heart feeling lighter with every beat, never really believing she would ever truly be free of Joffrey or Ramsay. That even in their death they would haunt her until her own dying day, but somehow you managed to wash all those fears away with two simple words. Resting her hands upon your chest, she felt the swift beat of your heart, seeing the same joy she felt, radiating from your eyes. "I never thought I would get this chance, but never again will I let someone tell me who to love... I love you... I always have."

Leaning forward, you reached for the nape of her neck, gently entangling your fingers amongst her locks, using your other hand to pull her body against your chest and then... you kissed her. The contact against her bare sensitive skin sending blissful shivers from her head to the tips of her toes. And the kiss... never had she been kissed like that, such tenderness, such passion, so much love. Pulling your lips from hers, you gently guided her to lay on the bed and the look of devotion she saw in your eyes, left her breathless. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you leaned down and kissed her again, before laying on the bed beside her, face to face. Tucking wisps of hair behind her ear you reached for the linen sheet, pulling it up over your heads, a perfect and private little world for two, the flickering candlelight filtering through and dancing upon your exquisite features, leaving her unable to imagine a more beautiful sight. Then leaning across with inviting lips, she heard her own voice speaking unintended words, yet never in her life had she spoken with such truth and honesty, loving the sound as they left her mouth. "I am yours and you are mine."

And hearing your sweet voice answer, "Always and forever," with such pure and raw intensity, filled her heart with unrivaled joy, unable to imagine a moment so perfect, silently thanking the gods you had found your way back into her life.


	31. One Good Reason (Sandor x Reader Drabble/Oneshot)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff ??? About as fluffy as a drabble about Sandor can be anyway! The lead up to smut, but it's not smut.
> 
> Please feel free to let me know what you think via messages or comments, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Everyday people asked you why you were with Sandor. And every day your answer was the same, "Mind your own business." It was really quite frustrating. At first, you could understand the intrigue, he was a big, rough and surly man, seemingly a loveless brute, void of any tenderness or warmth. And you... well, you were a beautiful woman from a minor noble house, raised to be a perfect lady, groomed and educated by your parents in the hopes you would marry above your station. Nevertheless, you had been together for long enough now, that all the curiosity and intrigue should have faded away. And yet, as you rolled over in your bed, trying to put as much distance between you and your husband's incessant earth moving snores, you asked yourself the very same question, 'Why?'

After laying there for more than an hour with your eyes open, staring blankly at the fireplace as it's flames gently filtered around the room, you had finally had enough of being patient. There was only so much a woman could take. When a hand full of gentle nudges did little more than shut him up for a moment, you found yourself driving your elbow a little too hard just below his ribs. To your surprise, he didn't even open his eyes, but you were sure that come morning a blackish blue haze would appear across his skin.

Rolling over he draped his strong arm over your waist, pulling your back against his chest, his lips coming to rest at your ear. As he spoke, his rough sleepy voice sent sweet shivers down your neck, spreading across your shoulders before cascading down your spine, "Ya know, you're really gotta stop ticklin' me in the middle of the night, you're gonna give me the wrong idea."

Sandor placed a rough and beaten hand to your hip, giving it a little squeeze, subconsciously, making you nestle yourself further into his chest, craving the contact of his warm skin. "Well, if you don't stop snoring, you're going to give me the wrong idea." With his mouth still against your ear, you tilted your head upwards and he responded by gently kissing just below your earlobe, causing a needy murmur to slip from your lips. With absolutely no conviction, you finished your sentence, "I'm going to start thinking you don't want me in here with you."

Sandor was wide awake now, almost snorting as he flipped you around to face him. The action was so effortless, you couldn't help but get a little flustered. Then he pulled your body flush against his with a firm grip around your waist and you found your breaths growing shallow with expectation. Hungrily, his big hand travelled up along your curves, coming to rest amongst your (HC) hair, his voice low and gravelly, "Well, we can't be lettin' you get that idea." Eagerly he pulled your lips to his. It was urgent and rough but somehow filled with tenderness and affection, sending any thoughts of sleep to some distant and forgotten horizon. Before his lips were done, he flipped you onto your back, his body pressing gently upon yours, his whiskers and warm breath tingling against your sensitive skin as his mouth moved slowly and torturously along your neck. Reluctantly, you felt his lips leave the touch of your skin as he stopped a moment to lift his head, his expression filled with blatant wonder as his eyes watched the firelight dance upon your beautiful features. And just like that, you had at least one reason... one very good enticing reason 'why.'


	32. Searching (Tormund Giantsbane x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, mentions and descriptions of deceased and injured people.
> 
> Any feedback, comments or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.

Tormund loved you... even despite the fact you were born of the South. He could still remember the look of defiance your features held, on that very first day he met you. The day he arrived at Bear Island with Jon Snow and his sister, looking for men to fight alongside them against Ramsay Bolton, in a bid to take back his friend's childhood home. You were in the hall, standing beside your feisty little cousin, Liliana Mormont, looking every bit as fiery as her. And that was it... he was done for. You were beautiful... but not in the way he had come to expect from the women of the south. You wore pants and tunics... carried a sword at your side... and you had a look about you that told him you were not easily intimidated. But it was your eyes that commanded his full attention. Even from across the room, he could tell they were the most spectacular (EC) colour he had ever seen... and you didn't once shy away from his intense gaze like so many other southerners did.

When the time arrived for the evening meal, he sat across the table from you and that look of defiance he remembered, crowned your features from the very first words he said to you. Casually, he plonked himself down on the seat and picked up the bread, ripping off a piece larger than his hand, then leaning across he helped himself to a generous portion of stew, speaking as he did so, "I'll give you southerner's one thing... you know how to eat well."

Looking to you, he winked and scooped a spoonful of stew into his mouth, your expression neither amused or upset... just defiant... and the sound of your voice when you spoke, pleased him beyond belief... he imagined himself waking up beside that voice. "You're Tormund... are you not?" Busy scooping another spoonful of stew into his mouth, he responded with a nod of his head, answering before the food even left his mouth, "Aye."

The way you held his gaze sent a roll of delight down his spine... those eyes... he wanted his babies to have those stunning (EC) eyes. After a short moment of silence, you spoke again, "I have never been... nor, will I ever be a southerner... I am a northerner." Then in your next breath, your features lightened... your perfect lips touched with the hint of a smile, "But if you must call me Southerner... then I shall call you Wildling."

Tormund couldn't hide the delight from his features, nor could he hold back his reply. Holding his spoon in the air, he waved it in your direction, "You and me... we're gonna be friends." Then raising his brows, he added suggestively, "Good friends," and when you didn't look at all repulsed by the thought, it only encouraged him more.

But that was months ago... and since that first meeting, you had been inseparable. Maybe it was because you weren't all that different from the free folk, not that he would ever tell you that. In fact, all the women from Bear Island were different from those on the mainland. They were warriors... brave... strong and not afraid to say what they think, standing behind no man. And you were all of those things and more. You were funny, witty and gods you were beautiful... and you didn't let him get away with a damn thing... always ready to punish him in the most satisfying way.

Except, now he could think of none of that... his only thought being to find you. Aye, they may have been saved in the nick of time, by the Knights of the Vale... but the battle for Winterfell had been bloody... many were lost. And now he wondered around the battlefield searching for you amongst the piles of corpses... praying to the gods that he wouldn't find you there.

Somewhere in the thick of battle, he lost sight of you. One moment he watched... almost with pride, as you easily cut down men double your size... you were fast and you were smart, far to quick for them to keep up with their heavy, cumbersome swords. In the next moment, you were gone... drowning under the feet of panicked men as they fought to escape the arch of Bolton spears, trapping them into an almost certain death. Desperately, he tried to reach you, but the sea of men pushed him further and further from your reach, completely losing you amongst the mounting pile of men, struggling to fight their way to the top for air.

Then came the sound of distance horns, followed by the thundering sound of hooves vibrating across the frost-covered ground, before over the rise came a charging cavalry of men... where at the top sat Sansa upon her horse. Never had Tormund felt such overwhelming relief, not for him and not for those around him... relief that now he could make his way through the thick of men to find you.

But that was hours ago and still, he searched... as others rummaged through the countless bloody and broken bodies, looking for survivors. The light was beginning to fade from the cold grey sky, taking with it every breath of hope that maybe somehow you had survived. And that was when the sound of shouting came from the other side of the battle sight, desperate and eager for assistance, "I've found one.... She's not looking too good, but she's alive... she's breathing."

Tormund forgot to breathe, his chest growing tight from the pressure, the only words his head could process was, 'She's alive... she's breathing,' 'she... she... she...' it had to be you. Never had he run so fast, his feet nearly tripping beneath him, reaching your side, he collapsed to his knees... his chest burning with pain at the sight of you. Your beautiful (EC) eyes were black and blue, your forehead was slashed wide open... the blood from the wound dried and matted throughout your (HC) hair... and your lips... your lips were all swollen and covered with lacerations.

The man beside him called out for help to move you, but Tormund wouldn't have any of it, his voice rough, leaving no room for arguments, "It's alright... I'll be taking this one." Moving away the cold and silent bodies that surrounded you, he carefully slipped his arm beneath your back, his other arm scooping you up from under your thighs, his eyes drawn to the flesh above your knee, cut so deep it exposed the bone. And your poor arm looked twisted and limp leaving him sure it was broken, but as he lifted you up into the safety of his arms, you began to stir... your eyelids flickering as your dry swollen lips parted, sending pained groans from your throat... the quiet sound hurting his ears. As much as your pain broke his heart, he sighed with undeniable relief to know you were stirring from unconsciousness, unable to hide the emotion in his voice when your striking (EC) eyes flickered open and settled upon him, "I've got you... my sweet Southern Bear... your gonna be just fine."

Your face was so swollen and bloody that Tormund couldn't be sure... but he could have sworn you just gave him a defiant glare as you attempted to speak... your words coming through rough and quiet between coughs, "Southern Bear..? You will... never... learn... will you... my crazy... ginger... wildling?"

Tormund wanted to throw his head back and laugh, though he restrained himself... not wanting to cause you further pain, thankful your head and wit was still in perfect working order. Instead, he gave a deep throaty chuckle as he leaned down and kissed your blood and dirt covered forehead, uncontained relief spreading throughout every fibre of his body... everything was going to be okay... you were going to be okay. Then lifting his lips from your forehead, he whispered against your ear "No, my sweet Southern Bear... I will never learn."


	33. The Tolling In The Tower (Jaime Lannister x Reader) Part 1 of 2 ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has never loved anyone the way he loves you, to him, you are the single most important thing in the world.
> 
> A/N: Okay.. Okay.. Okay. This was suppose to be about a 1500 word one shot, but I got carried away with the readers back story and now it's blown out to this. To complete it, I will need to write at least one more part. Please let me know if you think it will be worth my time and effort.
> 
> Warnings: Fluff and angst
> 
> Any feedback, comments and messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.

Jaime had never felt such joy and yet, been more afraid his entire life. Afraid not for himself... but for you. Since you had come into his world... into his private world, he had found true happiness by your side. You showed him that love was not bound by conditions, it could be given without the expectation of something in return. And until he fell for you, he had never felt love like that before... Yes, he had loved Cersei, probably still did in some small way... but it could not compare to the love he felt for you... or the love he received in return.

You had come to live at the Red Keep as a young Lady of ten, shortly after Robert Baratheon became King and married Cersei. Your father, a Lord and good friend of his own father died when you were quite young and when your mother passed away just a few years later, Tywin asked that Robert Baratheon take you on as his ward. It was a rare display of compassion from Tywin and Jaime could only assume it was in honour of his friendship with your father. He could still remember the day you arrived, so young and timid and such a beautiful little girl... and he recalled how he thought you were sure to grow into a rare beauty and steal the hearts of many. But little did he realise, that all these years later he, himself, would fall a willing victim to your sweet and innocent charms.

The King adored you from the day you arrived, treating you as if you were his own flesh and blood and with his kindness you soon found your confidence, bringing you out of your timid shell... but that did not last long. Cersei, being the jealous beast she was, despised you, simply because you took away her husband's innocent attention. And at first, she tolerated it, but when Joffrey came along, her treatment of you soon took a turn for the worse... hating the fact that you could still gain her husband's affections even though he now had a child of his own to love. And soon after, Robert made the difficult decision to send you away, entrusting your care to his best friend, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Ward of the North. And that was the last time he saw you, until years later he arrived at Winterfell along with King Robert and his household.

As the former ward of the King, you stood alongside the Starks as they waited in the courtyard ready to present themselves to the Royal household... and Jaime noticed you straight away. How could he not... you were stunning, dressed in a very simple and elegant dress, perfectly suited for the harsh northern air, your beautiful (HC) hair falling in soft locks around your lovely face, bringing an intake of air past his lips. But it wasn't until the King spoke that he even realised it was you... still half expecting the young girl he had remembered from years ago. Reaching the end of the line Robert stopped before you and Jaime watched as you gave him a customary curtsy, stepping forward Robert stretched out his arms, his voice loud and cheerful, "Lady (YN), just look at you... you're all grown up." After pulling you in for a tight hug, he held you at arms length, "I always knew you would grow into a great beauty... and I wasn't wrong." Still sitting upon his horse, Jaime was sure his expression was bewildered, you were not just grown up... you were a woman... and after a quick calculation, soon realised you must be at least twenty five. Giving his head a barely visible shake at the thought, he noticed Robert make his way back towards Eddard and you take a step back to stand beside a rather rugged looking man, his arm coming to rest at the small of your back. Jamie didn't know why, but he felt a small twist of envy flicker in his chest at the sight, recalling just a a few years back when Robert had announced your betrothal to the only son of a minor northern lord, one of Eddard's most trusted men. It was then, he realised the rugged looking man must be your husband, bringing another strange twist of envy.

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So much had happened since that day and after everything you had endured, he was in a constant state of disbelief that you allowed him in your presence, let alone sleep in your bed beside you. Resting his cheek against the softness of your (HC) hair, he listened to the beautiful rhythmic sound of your gentle breaths, savouring every second of the moment. Moving his gaze to the dark night sky, he watched the lace curtain softly billow against the wind, it's movement creating lulling shadows against the candlelit walls and had he not been distracted by such distressing thoughts, the moment would have been perfect. With his brother currently boarding a ship to the east... Jaime now needed to find a way to keep you from the toxic grip of his sister. Cersei had never liked you and every precious moment he spent by your side put you at risk. The thought of any harm coming to you was bad enough, but if that harm came because he loved you... it would crush him... And every day he found it a little harder to pretend... harder to pretend that he did not love you as you walked past him in the hall... to pretend he did not notice you when you walked into a room... And every day it got a little harder to pretend he loved Cersei... to pretend he found pleasure in her touch... and to pretend he did not feel hatred when she spoke of you so distastefully. You had been through so much at the hands of the Lannister's and still, Cersei was not satisfied... she would not be happy until you were gone. She did not care if she married you off to a hideous beast or buried you six feet under the ground, as long as you were gone.

Resting his cheek back against your head, he marvelled at your aptitude for forgiveness. Forever grateful, but none the less, at a loss to understand how you found room in your heart for him... after all, his family were the cause of all your heartbreak and anguish. You had returned to the Red Keep when Eddard became Hand of the King, accompanying your husband who served amongst his guards. And without fail, each time he happened upon you both in the corridors or saw you share a smile in the great hall he found that small twist of envy flare, until he found himself lying awake at nights with a visions of you in his head. It was a strange and foreign predicament... until you, he barely wasted a thought upon anyone but Cersei, but you... you were beginning to consume his every thought.

Then came the death of the King, triggering your whole world to crumble. When Eddard, the only father figure you had ever really known got arrested for Treason, the entire Stark household, save his daughters, were slaughtered... and if it wasn't for another display of compassion and honour from Twyin, Jaime was sure you would have been slaughtered too. He could still remember the pure relief at seeing you alive and breathing as you walked into the Throne room... and yet the utter heartbreak he felt at the sight of your face, so anguished and tormented by the murder of your husband. Jaime had never considered himself an overly compassionate or caring man and yet at that moment he had never wanted to comfort or care for someone more than he wanted to comfort and care for you. And if that was the only heartbreak you would ever have to endure, that would have been more than enough... but still your life spiralled further and further into a living nightmare.

Eddard was stupidly and thoughtlessly executed by Joffrey, sending Westeros into war. Half of the Stark children, whom you loved and adored were either missing or dead and you had to lay a helpless witness to the cruel taunting's and torture of Sansa, by the very person who had been entrusted with her care. And of course the Red Wedding, were you lost the only other family that remained. So by every right, when Brienne delivered him to Kings Landing you shouldn't have given him... a Lannister, the time of day and yet you greeted him with a curious gaze and a softness in your sad (EC) eyes that he did not expect. Then a few days after arriving, he was sitting alone in the gardens, lost amongst his own thoughts feeling sorry for himself, completely taken off guard at the sound of you clearing your throat before him. Shocked, he almost jumped to his feet, "Lady (YN)... I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

Settling his eyes upon your stunning face, he almost felt overwhelmed by the small smile gracing your lips. In that one small gesture he felt more compassion than he had felt from Cersei since the moment he stepped through the Red Keep's gates. And when you spoke, your words left him momentarily speechless... a very unusual circumstance to find himself in, "No, I'm sorry Ser Jaime... I did not mean to startle you... Will you walk with me?"

At first, conversation was slow, he felt awkward and out of place by your side and so underserving of your company. And you were sad. He could see it in your eyes, hear it in the sound of your voice and feel it in the space between you, quickly bringing forth that same need he felt to comfort you the day your husband was murdered. With surprisingly little effort he pushed his own troubles aside, wanting and needing to make you smile and when he succeeded he couldn't believe the unselfish joy he felt, his chest warming with every beat of his heart. Yet, when you excused yourself to freshen up for dinner it was your final words and gesture that affected him the most... changing him forever, in the most profound way. Stopping on the pathway, you turned to face him, your hand coming to rest gently upon his forearm, your voice and gaze full of sincerity, "Thank you, Ser Jaime... I haven't laughed like that in quite some time." Then giving his arm a small squeeze, you continued, your gaze intensifying, "You've changed in the time you've been absent." And he knew you didn't intend to, but your eyes flickered towards his missing hand before settling back upon him, making him shift uncomfortably on his feet as you spoke again, "I don't know what you have been through... but it's changed you... and I have to say, I feel your a much better man for it."

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Jaime smiled softly to himself as the memory of that beautiful day replayed in his mind, moving his cheek from the warmth of your head he placed his lips there instead, breathing in the sweet scent of your (HC) hair as his arm unknowingly embraced you tighter. Since he lost his hand he had felt like a useless waste of space. The only skill he ever prided himself on was gone, he was barely able to hold his longsword, let alone serve amongst the Kingsguard. He felt pointless, just a empty remnant of the man he once was... But somehow, you had managed to make him feel whole again... probably more complete than he had ever felt his entire life and he couldn't even begin to explain just how that made him feel. There were no words, no gestures great enough to show you.

As you began to stir, sweet sleepy mumbles left your lips, your warm fingertips brushing lightly against his chest as you re-adjusted yourself cosily into his side. Before long, your restless hand travelled along the skin of his torso, bringing a deep sigh of satisfaction through his chest, his hand coming to rest upon yours, gripping it lovingly. Opening your drowsy (EC) eyes, you gave a content smile, before you buried your head in his chest to stifle a yawn, the warm air of your breath unbearable in the loveliest kind of way. Rolling on his side to face you, he pulled you against him, his own hand running along the curve of your silky skin, his touch creating goose bumps across your naked body, bringing soft murmurs of pleasure from your lips. Soft murmurs... that without fail, sent a wave of heat around his entire body... every time.

Losing his hand amongst your hair, he guided your mouth to his, the rise and fall of his chest speeding up with every eager movement of your lips, before brushing his own along your jaw, tenderly taking your lobe between his teeth, your intake of air only fuelling the heat already coursing around his body. About to flip you on your back, both of you were startled by urgent thuds upon your chamber door. Sitting up, you opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off by the ominous tolling of the bell, high in the Red Keep tower. Between the tolls your handmaiden spoke, her voice high pitched and panicked, "Lady (YN)... you must open the door... hurry."

Both of you jumped out of bed... Jaime hiding out of sight around the corner of your chamber as you quickly pulled on your robe. Making quick work of the lock, you opened the door, your voice concerned but calm, "What is it... what's happened?"

The handmaiden's voice was shaky, "It's Lord Tywin... his been found dead on the lavatory... his heart pierced by an arrow."

Jaime felt sick, all further conversation between you and the maid lost to the deafening haze in his head, his whole body turning numb. With glazed eyes, he watched your form at the door, the haze of his mind slowly waking as it dawn with the most terrifying thoughts. He should have been feeling grief... despair or at least upset by the death of his father and yet, the only emotion he felt was urgency, his death triggering just one continual thought, 'to get you out of there.' The only barrier between Cersei and your safety was his father... and now he was gone, there was nothing to keep you from her vicious, twisted and deadly games.

Taking a deep breath, he struggled to control the thumping in his chest, his eyes now fully focused on you as you closed the door and turned around. Running to him, you cupped his cheeks in your hands, your eyes heavy with compassion, your voice quiet and soft, "Jaime... Jaime, my love... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... you should sit down."

Shaking his head, he held your gaze and spoke, his words clear and pressing, leaving no room for compromise, "No... there's no time... I need to get you out of here... I need to get you out now."


	34. Home To You (Edd Tollett/Dolorous Edd x Reader - Oneshot)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years away from home, Edd returns to see the only girl he has ever loved.
> 
> This AU takes place in a perfect world where Edd survives the Battle of Winterfell.
> 
> A/N: This is the first piece I have written for Edd, I'm not sure how it will go, but Edd deserves a little love... don't you think?
> 
> Warnings: A bit of angst and a bit of fluff, that's about it. Oh! and there are one or two references describing deceased bodies.
> 
> Any feedback, comments or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.

The journey felt as if it had stretched on forever. In reality, the trip from Kings Landing to the Vale was not a long one, nor was it particularly difficult. Well... not in comparison to the many other journeys Edd had been on in the past few years and yet it had seemed as though it would never end. But now as his eyes searched along the horizon, he could just make out the familiar outline of his old village, sitting still and quiet as the sun rose up silently behind it.

Edd breathed in the crisp morning air, the old familiar smell of dew-covered grass so sweet and fresh, filled his lungs, making him smile. Never did he think he would smell that smell again... and never did he think he would miss it as much as he did. You on the other hand... now that was different. Edd had always been sweet on you. For as long as he could remember you were the one who would steal his thoughts away, the one he found his mind lingering upon during the cold lonely nights at Castle Black.

Leaning down, Edd ran his hand along the neck of his horse, giving her a scratch amongst her mane, she loved it when he did that, "We're almost there girl, not much longer now." It was hard for him to comprehend being so close to home... he never expected to make it out of the Long Night or the fiery inferno that unfolded at King's Landing... but here he was alive and breathing... and so close to the only girl he had ever loved.

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As the children of very humble folk neither of you grew up with much, but his memories of the time he spent with you always brought a full and rich smile to his lips. Virtually inseparable from a very early age, you would play together, eat together, do your chores together... from the moment the sun rose to the moment it fell beyond the horizon... he could be found by your side. Thinking back, he could not remember a time he didn't love you... unable to pinpoint the moment his feelings transformed from the sweet innocent love of a child to what he felt now... a strong genuine and heartfelt love that left a permanent mark upon his heart... never to be washed away. But what he did remember was the moment he realised he could never be more than just your friend.

Even as a young boy he knew you were beautiful... the prettiest girl in the village... probably the prettiest girl for miles... in fact, when he was young he couldn't imagine a more beautiful girl in all of Westeros. And since his travels back and forth across the country during the past couple of years, he couldn't imagine a face he wanted to see more than yours. The problem for Edd was just that... your beauty. It went unnoticed by no one. By the time you reached the age of ten and three, every boy in the village would fight for your affections, go out of their way just to greet you in the morning or make up some pitiful excuse as to why they would need to come knocking on your door. But you showed no interest in them... and for a long time, Edd found both joy and comfort in your easy dismissal of them. Until, one day a couple of years later, when a squire from his very own House Tollett became a frequent visitor to your door.

It was true, Edd belonged to a minor noble house by name, but in no way was he considered noble... his blood ties to House Tollett resided in generations long past and as such he was barely considered any better than the small folk around his village. And you... well, you were in much the same predicament. Nevertheless, you held such natural poise and grace that even the young Lords and Knights who passed through the village were taken by your beauty and charm as if their eyes glazed right over your tattered boots and ragged clothes.

Samuel Tollett was one such boy, a squire for his uncle, Ser Mackin Tollett, a rather prestigious Knight of the Vale who was a minor Lord of his house. And the day Samuel first rode through the village was the day Edd's world changed forever... triggering a slow train of thought that would eventually lead him to Castle Black. At first, Edd didn't think much of it... he was just one more boy who admired you, another name to add to a fast-growing list... and unsurprisingly just like all your other admirers, you paid him no heed. But before long, Edd noticed the young knight in training passing through more and more... and his timing was impeccable, stopping by your front gate when he knew you would be tending to your mother's garden. And like always Edd was there to lend you a hand. At first, he noticed just little things... like the way Samuel could make you smile, but Edd felt no concern because the smiles he brought to your face were much bigger, much warmer and brighter. Then he began to notice how the boy made you laugh... but still, he felt no worry, because the laughter he brought to your lips was far louder and far more joyous. But then... then Samuel bought you a ribbon... just a simple red ribbon to tie in your beautiful (HC) hair and it was this little gesture which brought Edd's small world tumbling down.

That damn ribbon was all he could ever think about... quickly becoming a constant reminder and symbol of everything he would never be able to give you... and you... you deserved the world. And as long as he was around to make you laugh and smile... to comfort you when you were sad... and care for you when you were sick, you would never get the life you deserved. You were too sweet and too kind and deep down he knew you loved him and as long as he stayed close by your side you would continue to push other more favourable suitors away. And even though Samuel Tollett himself, was not a Lord, he would one day become a Knight trained by one of the most respected Knights across all of Westeros, leaving him able to provide you with far more than he could ever dream of.

At first, Edd tried to push his thoughts away... to pretend that nothing had changed, but when night would fall, he would lay awake with visions of you and that damn ribbon tied in your hair. It looked so pretty... so in place with your beautiful face, that the guilt he felt for selfishly wanting to keep you for himself, began to eat away at him. Until, one night he could stand it no more and he found himself packing a humble satchel of belongings, before scrawling a small note to his parents and leaving through the front door, hours before anyone was expected to rise. It was the only thing he could think to do... at least at Castle Black, there were no women... he could not marry and once he joined, he was there until his death. Any hope or desire to spend his life with you... to have children with you, would be forbidden... leaving you free to marry someone better... someone like Samuel.

Letters from home broke his heart, both his mother and father were understandably upset after he left with no warning... no goodbye. But their news of you affected him was far worse, sending him into a constant state of dejection and he began to wonder whether he had made a grave mistake. You had not taken to his departure very well... you were angry... confused... and hurt that he would leave without a proper goodbye... that he would leave you at all... But eventually, the news arriving from home brought a smile to his lips... and yet, at the same time it brought a frown to his heart.

It must have been a good six months later when a letter arrived from his mother. You had finally given in to the persistent efforts of Samuel Tollett... you were betrothed and set to marry within weeks... you would soon be the wife of a soon to be knight... And as sad as the news made him, he couldn't help but smile... everything had worked out just as he intended. Sam Tollett was a good and honourable soul and he would love and care for you well.

The months and years passed and for the most part, Edd was content... albeit for the dull hollowness in his chest that woke up every night he tried to fall asleep. A dull ache that brought thoughts of you... visions of your smile, the memory of your touch and the knowledge that another man kept you warm at night. But once again, just a couple of years later... his world would come tumbling down... his heart breaking not for himself... but for you.

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It was a horrible job to begin with... but it had to be done. After the Battle of Winterfell, the grounds looked like a wasteland. Piled high with countless decaying wights and a seemingly endless sea of good men and women who fought and paid with their lives to save the world from the cold and lifeless grip of the Night King. Great mounds of burning lumber littered Winterfell's surrounds, where these good men and women met with the flames, their poor lifeless bodies turning to nothing but ash, only to be forgotten and carried away on the passing wind. And it was here, where Edd's heart broke for you. He didn't expect it... but there he was... Ser Samuel Tollett... your husband, staring back at him with hollow empty eyes... his body lying cold and motionless on the frozen ground. Edd didn't know what to think... or how to react... all he could feel was a searing pain tearing at the edges of his heart... all for you.

From that moment on, Edd could do little without thinking of you, desperate to know if you were okay. Were you alone? Were you with family? Did you still cry for your husband? And more recently he found himself wondering if you ever spent a moment thinking of him... Did you know he had been knighted for his efforts during the Battle for Winterfell... Did you know or even care if he still lived and breathed..? So many questions with no answers, until the day he happened across a childhood friend. A friend who in the aftermath of Daenerys' tirade, came to the capital in search of work rebuilding the many ruins. "She's there Edd... she's home... It's her ma... she's sick and (YN)'s come home to look after her."

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Edd inhaled deeply, as the sun began to ascend into the sky. The outline of the village growing closer and closer by the second, feeling his stomach twist and tighten as your mother's house came into view where it sat quietly on the outskirts. It was at that very moment his eyes caught movement in your yard, his heart skipping countless beats... his breaths getting caught in his chest. It was you. After all these years he could still spot you from a mile away.

Without realising, Edd ran a hand through his hair and across his beard, straightening out his tunic as he gave his horse a little nudge, quickening her pace to a canter. There you were... heading into the chicken coop at the side of the house, probably to collect the eggs for your breakfast, just like you always had. Coming to a stop just outside your gate, Edd hopped down from his horse... unsure what to do... unsure how you would react. As his breaths grew shaky, so did his hands... losing them to his pockets in hopes of keeping them occupied, his fingertips fidgeting with what he found inside. Unable to keep still, he shuffled from foot to foot, so nervous that he dropped his gaze to the ground. He didn't know how long he stayed like that... it was if time stood painfully still, but the sound of the rusty coop hinges soon boke through his distracted and nervous thoughts. The sight of you standing there, so still... so quiet... and even more beautiful than he remembered, had his chest forgetting to breathe.

Your stunning (EC) eyes were wide with shock... and even from the gate, he could see your sweet lips tremble and quiver as your hands carefully cradled the eggs you collected in your apron. Pulling his hands from his pockets he opened the gate, taking just a few tentative steps inside... unsure if you would want him any closer.

As if in slow motion you dropped your arms to your sides, the eggs in your apron falling and breaking on the ground at your feet. But you barely even noticed as you stepped over them... your steps soon breaking into a run as you threw yourself into his arms and had he not braced himself for the impact both of you would have ended up on the muddy path below. Never had anything felt so good as you buried your face into the crook of his neck... the softness of your locks brushing against the stubble on his cheek as the fresh scent of lavender water greeted his nose. Gods how he had missed that smell. And then came the glorious sound of your voice speaking his name, as the warmth of your breath against his skin sent the most welcome wave of goosebumps across his shoulders, "Edd... I can't believe it... you're here... you've come home..."

Reluctantly, he pulled away... just enough to take in every one of your perfect features... you really were the most beautiful thing to ever draw breath from the world. Slowly he nodded his head and placed a tender kiss to your forehead, simply replying, "Aye... I've come home." And then moving his arms from around your waist, he reached back into his pocket and pulled out something held safe within his palm, speaking as he gently placed it within yours, "Here... I thought you might be missing this."

When your eyes looked down at your hand, he heard the intake of your breath, at the sight of the ribbon which you thought you had lost years ago. And when you returned your eyes to his, they were wet with unshed tears, your voice quiet and raspy with emotion... "You... You've had it all this time...?"

Edd cleared his throat, he himself struggling to contain the emotion rising through his chest, "Aye... did you really think I could leave this place without taking a little piece of you with me?" Returning his arms to your waist, he pulled you tight against him, your whole body trembling as your unshed tears ran freely down the side of your face. Moving a tender thumb to your cheek he wiped away your tears, placing another sweet kiss to your forehead, his next words spoken as if he were swearing an oath to the gods themselves, "But I promise I will not leave again... unless you come with me."


	35. More Than Enough (Ned/Eddard Stark x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: After a long and busy day taking care of his duties as Warden of the North, Ned retires to your shared chambers to find you already sleeping.
> 
> Word Count: 1089
> 
> Warnings: Pure unadulterated fluff. I guess Pregnancy? (If that's a warning).
> 
> Any feedback, comments or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.

Ned grimaced slightly, as the old hinges of the chamber door creaked with protest when he tried but failed to shut it silently, reminding himself that he really must get that attended to in the morning. With light feet he turned around and made his way across the room, placing his cloak on the stand in the corner, before moving to sit down on the edge of the bed. Slipping off his boots, he was careful to place them underneath, not wanting to risk you tripping on them, then lifted his head to let his gaze settle upon you. There you sat in the armchair beside the fire, with the warm flickering glow illuminating your beautiful face perfectly, your features heavy with sleep as the sound of your deep rhythmic breaths quietly filled the room. In one hand rested a book, balancing precariously at the edge of your knee as the other rested protectively across the fast-growing bump of your belly. With a content sigh, the corner of Ned's lips curled into a sweet grin, soaking up the view before him. You were such a beautiful woman... more beautiful than any other he had ever set eyes upon... but the sight of his baby growing healthy and strong within the nurturing confines of your body stirred to life all kinds of feelings he simply could not explain.

Reaching forward he carefully slipped the book from your fingertips... closing the ribbon in the open page he quietly placed it on the small table beside you and sat back on the bed, not wanting to disturb you just yet. You looked so comfortable... and with every passing day sleep was getting increasingly harder for you to find, so while you looked so peaceful he decided to leave you be. Besides, time was easy to waste in the peaceful surrounds of his chambers, while you sat there safe and well, looking more beautiful than ever.

Over the past couple of weeks, he knew you had tried desperately to stay awake of an evening, patiently waiting for his arrival, in the hopes of stealing a few private moments together. And yet, every night he would arrive to find you sound asleep in that chair, no matter how soon he managed to get there... But every time the vision took his breath away, filling his chest with the most nourishing kind of love.

In fact, Ned had savoured every moment of the last eight months. After missing everything the first time around with the pregnancy and birth of little Robb... all this was completely new to him. And every day he was left humbled and amazed. Early on, he was humbled by your grit and perseverance, feeling utterly helpless, when day after day he watched you quietly deal with relentless morning sickness, that somehow seemed to last all day. And how eventually your complexion transformed from pale and washed out to the beautiful almost ethereal glow he could see now. Then came amazement and awe as he witnessed the slow and beautiful changes in your body... changes perfectly designed to feed and nurture the growing baby... his growing baby inside. The way the curve of your hips and breasts grew a little more shapely... and the softness of your stomach grew rounder and more full with each passing day. Gods how he loved to wrap you in his arms and rest his hands protectively around that fast-growing bump... cherishing how he needed to stretch just that little bit further each time. And the first moment he felt those tiny flutters under his large and calloused fingertips, that before long grew strong and knowing.... reacting to the sound of his voice... left him in a constant state of wonder. Reminding him every day there was a whole little person flourishing in there.

With a deep and satisfying breath, Ned smiled again and stood to his feet, taking off his tunic to settle in for the night. Pulling a fur from the bed he closed the small distance between you, ready to drape it across your form when you began to stir... the sweetest sleepy noises passing your lips as you began to rub your aching side. Lifting your hand to your mouth you stifled a well-deserved yawn... your eyes fluttering open to meet his, your voice soft and husky with sleep, "Ned... how long have your been here... why didn't you wake me?"

Throwing the fur back across to the bed, he leaned down and tenderly grabbed your face between his strong hands, his fingers getting lost amongst the hair that fell loosely around your features, before pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. It was filled with such endless affection and bound with all the gratitude he felt for what you were giving him... what you had already given him... and wondered how he could ever begin to repay you. Kneeling down before you, he rubbed soothingly around the sides of your belly, reaching down to kiss the top that poked adorably out from the edges of your dressing gown. Leaving just the thin veil of your nightdress between his lips and the silkiness of your rounded skin, his voice coming through as a deep whisper, "I didn't want to disturb you... you looked so comfortable and peaceful." Then taking a small step back he offered you his hands, the touch of your soft fingertips feeling so warm and welcomed against his rough and hardened palms, giving you a small smile as he helped you to your feet. "But now that you're awake, why don't you rest up in the bed and let me give that back of yours a rub."

With the sweetest smile, you reached up and placed a gentle hand against his cheek, your fingertips lightly caressing through his beard, all the while stretching your back as you reached up to kiss his waiting lips. Your next words leaving him shaking his head with amused disbelief. "Ned, my handsome dear husband... you are too sweet and too kind... how will I ever repay you for everything that you do?"

Ned's sweet amusement quickly faded, replaced with intense yet somehow humble eyes, reaching across to kiss you once more, this time upon your forehead. And as his hands tenderly slipped beneath the edges of your dressing gown they came to rest affectionately upon your big beautiful belly, his lips moving to whisper lovingly in your ear. "My beautiful sweet wife... I do believe you are already doing more than enough."


	36. The Tolling In The Tower - Part 2 of 2 (Jaime Lannister x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has never loved anyone the way he loves you, to him, you are the single most important thing in the world. So what happens when his father, the only person standing between Cersei and your safety, dies.
> 
> Warnings: Mostly angst. Some violence and a tiny bit of fluff.
> 
> Any feedback, comments or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories

With haste, Jaime made his way down the passage to your room. The night was late, the candles along the walls had been burning for hours and before long their wicks would extinguish in a puddle of their own wax. And it was Jaime's hope, that in this late hour, everyone would be fast asleep and the cover of darkness would shield your escape out the back tunnels of the Red Keep, where a horse awaited you both.

It had been just two days since his father had died and in a panic, he wanted to leave straight away. As much as he knew Cersei would grieve for their father, he also knew with certainty that her grief would not stop her from getting to you... All these years and all the suffering you had endured at the hands of his family would not be enough to satisfy her jealous beast... And so with the sound of the bell still tolling in the tower, Jaime left you locked in the safety of your chamber as he searched the Red Keep for Varys... the only man left in all of King's Landing that he trusted enough with your life. Yet, Varys was nowhere to be found... any trace of him disappearing the very moment Tyrion escaped onto the boat... leaving him with no one but himself to trust.

Jaime had nowhere to take you, Cersei had locked the city down... no ship could leave the docks without her guards searching through every dark and dingy corner. Every Inn, every brothel, every business was being turned upside down every day, looking for Tyrion, but he had to get you outside of King's Landing. The only place he could think to take you was North, hoping that the family of your late husband might take you in. He didn't care what happened to him... they could send him packing or kill him for all he cared... as long as they took you in and kept you safe.

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Reaching your chamber door he quietly called your name, praying you were ready and waiting to leave, but no sound came from the other side... no quiet voice answering his call... no soft footsteps or shuffling against the floor... nothing. Hoping you had somehow fallen asleep he called out a little louder, softly knocking against the heavy wooden door. But still nothing. Feeling his breaths grow shaky and his heart pound like a hammer, he wrapped his hand around the latch, praying it would be locked... but with dread, he found it opened without a hitch. Jaime couldn't help the hesitation in his hands, as the door slowly creaked open... his poor eyes fearful of what they might find on the other side.

Reluctantly, his hand pushed the door the rest of the way open, the sight before him bringing a sharp gasp of air past his lips, ripping right through his chest. There you were tied to a chair, with Ser Meryn's hand clasped tight around your mouth... so tight his fingers were turning white as his other hand pulled roughly at your hair. Your sweet eyes were wide and terrified and your warm complexion deathly and pale. Next to you was Cersei, sitting casually in a chair, a glass of wine within her grip and a serene, yet somehow vindictive smile across her features. When she spoke, her voice was sweet and warm, though her words were bitter and cold, "Did you really think I wouldn't find out about your little whore?" Standing from her chair, Cersei took a sip from her glass, before taking a step towards you, her fingertip running softly down the side of your face, making your whole body stiffen, "This little whore that you steal away to every night." Roughly, gabbing your chin, she squeezed it between her fingertips, "I'll admit... she's always been a beauty... but a whore nonetheless."

Stepping into the room, Jaime put his hand palm forward in the air, feeling sick to the stomach at the sight of his sister touching you... he was too late, she had gotten to you, "Cersei... What are you doing..? If father were here he-"

Cersei spun around, her features now matching the bitter words that flew from her mouth, "But he's not here... is he? He's dead... dead because you were too weak to let our brother pay for the death of our son." Reining in her momentary lapse of temper, Cersei smiled... but it carried no humour or affection. "And now there is no one here to protect your sweet little whore... I don't know what it is about her, but the men in my life can't seem to stomach any harm coming to her pretty face... first father, then Robert... and now you." Taking a step towards Jaime, she studied his eyes, no longer could she see the thin veil that guarded his feelings for you, "But for you my dear brother, it's much more... isn't it..? You love her!"

Taking another step into the room Jaime could barely speak, not that he needed to, Cersei could see right through him, so there was no point him denying what they both knew was true... he loved you. Instead, he turned his attention to Meryn, his glare almost murderous and full of warning, finding his voice when the pitiful excuse for a knight smirked wickedly, "Ser Meryn, if you so much as harm a hair on her head... I'll hunt you down like the vile scum you are... As the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I order you to release her."

The disgusting man sniggered, his eyes shifting to Cersei and back to Jaime as he spoke, "You may be the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, but I'll take my orders from the Queen." With his hand still around your mouth, his other hand reach around the back of your head in the opposite direction, his eyes glinting with wicked pleasure as he made his intention clear... he intended to snap your neck on Cersei's command.

Jaime couldn't think straight. Seeing you sitting there so venerable and helpless and just one single nod of Cersei's head away from death, had his lungs struggling to function, the rise and fall of his chest growing more erratic with every breath. And yet, when he spoke his voice was surprisingly calm, but his eyes gave everything away... every anxious thought... every desperate realisation... was there in his eyes for his sister to see and the pure delight she took from it made him sick. Stepping before her, Jaime lifted his hand to Cersei's arm, but she recoiled, her face turning stone cold as he spoke, "Cersei... don't do this... she's done nothing... return her to the north and I promise to stay here... with you."

Cersei laughed and the sound was incredulous, "You expect me to believe you will stay here with me when-" then turning around she waved her arm towards you, before turning back to him, "when this little bitch is carrying your child?" Jaime's expression went blank, his complexion pale, sucking in a short sharp breath as he shifted his gaze first to your terrified face before settling upon your belly, his whole body feeling detached from his mind. Taking an involuntary step towards you, Jaime stopped in his tracks when Meryn's hands stiffened and tightened around your head in a wordless threat. Cersei's face dropped, though it was barely noticeable, her voice slightly taken back, "You didn't know... she didn't tell you... and still you were going to run away with her!"

Giving her head a small shake, Cersei gave a sickening smile, "You fool, Jaime... I knew... father knew and I'm sure Varys knew too." Taking a couple of steps back in his direction, Cersei stood before him, casually taking a sip of wine as her hand came to rest softly against his chest, but he was too shocked to react. Yet, when she spoke again, his stomach dropped, "And if our dear brother didn't kill our father two days ago he was going to have you married and send you both to Casterly Rock." With a deep breath, she moved her hand from his chest to his cheek, her touch feeling cold and bitter like her words. " The old fool was actually happy about it... Finally, after all these years his beloved son would willingly leave the Kingsguard and return home. With a new Lady for Casterly Rock at his side and a babe already on the way to continue his precious family name." Dropping her hand from his cheek, she once again took another sip of wine, shaking her head as she looked at him, "But I will never allow it to happen... You are mine, brother... until you draw your last breath from this world." Turning around, she placed her wine on the arm of her chair, before moving to your side and Jaime didn't see the little vial of liquid she picked up until she spoke again, her words igniting a fury like he had never felt before. "Just like she belongs to you... until her very last breath."

With her thumb, Cersei flicked off the small lid, the sound no louder than a small pop and yet, to Jaime, it was defending. And when she gestured for Meryn to release his grip from your mouth, Jaime reacted faster and more coordinated than anyone thought a one-handed knight capable. But there was no thought to it... it was all just impulse... his only thought... to keep you safe.

Lunging forward, he swung his arm in the direction of Cersei's head, his heavy golden hand... the very one she had fashioned him, connected with such force that she fell limp, the vial of poison smashing as it rolled from her grip. And by the time her limp form had even hit the floor, he had pulled his long sword from its sheath and pierced Meryn's neck through... all before the honourless knight even knew what was happening. Reaching you, he pulled a small dagger from his pocket, cutting the ties around your wrists and ankles. Lifting you to your feet he wrapped you in his arms, your poor body trembling, but the feeling of your heart beating fast and strong against his chest felt like the most precious thing in the world. Moving his arms to your waste, he held you back from him, his eyes searching all over... looking for any sign of harm and aside from the small marks around your wrists, he found none. Cupping the back of your head, he breathed deeply, exhaling with relief, his eyes intense and burning, "Why didn't you tell me?"

You shook your head, your fingertips still trembling as they grabbed onto his tunic, "I was going to... as soon as we got out of here... I didn't want you worrying for me to any more than you were already."

Pulling you to his chest again, he breathed in the sweet scent of your hair, before taking you by the hand to lead you from the room, barely taking a second glance at his sister still lying unconscious on the floor. "Come on... we need to leave before someone finds us here."

But you didn't budge, your feet refusing to follow him through the door, your voice surprisingly calm as you spoke just one single word, "No."

Spinning around, Jaime expression was confused, "What do you mean... No? Once Cersei wakes, she will have all the guards after us... we need to leave... now."

Taking a step towards him, you grabbed his hand, your thumb tenderly rubbing across his knuckles, "That's why we can't go, Jaime... I don't want to run with you... I want to be with you... I want everyone to know I love you and you love me." Placing his hand against your belly, you held it there, "If we run, we will be running forever... always looking over our shoulders... I don't want that for us... or our baby." Then taking a small breath You glanced back at Cersei, your voice sure and determine, "I know what we have to do."

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Somehow, Jaime managed to sneak around the dark passageways unseen, with Cersei in his arms, still limp but breathing evenly. The contact of her body against his, made his skin crawl and he honestly didn't know if he would have felt regret if the blow to her head had of been fatal. All he felt at that moment was hatred... and although she had acted just as he expected, it was still hard for him to accept that she wanted you dead when you carried an innocent life inside of you... a part of him inside of you.

Thankfully, Cersei's chamber remained unguarded. No doubt she had ordered Ser Meryn as her guard that evening in a bid to carry out her wicked plan and Jaime wasted no time placing her in her bed, before making his way back to you. Reaching your door he quietly called your name, feeling untold relief when it opened straight away. There you stood, no longer wearing the dress you planned to escape in, instead, your nightgown hung loosely from your body with your shoulder poking through a tear of your own making... and you had skilfully messed up your hair as if you had been sleeping all night. Quickly, he closed the door behind him and grabbed your face, placing a firm kiss to your forehead, his eyes searching around the room seeing that you had returned the chairs to their original spots and unmade your bed. The sheets now lying in a tangled mess off the end. And Ser Meryn... his lifeless body still warm and lying in a pool of his own blood, remained mostly unchanged... all but for a single difference... his pants. No longer were they tied and around his waist... you had loosened them and pulled them down just below his hips.

Taking a deep breath, Jaime looked back to you, his heart once again beating fiercely in his chest... this was it... there was nothing left to do, but act... With his hand still at the side of your face, he asked, "Are you ready?" You said nothing... answering with just a single nod of your head, as he felt your own breaths grow shaky. Dropping his arms to his side he ran from the room, shouting loudly down the passage, "Guards... guards... it's Lady (YN), she has been attacked."

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Jaime stood beside you as you sat on your bed, your torn nightdress covered by your dressing gown as guards moved about the chamber, moving Ser Meryn from your sight. Before you both, stood King Tommen, he himself, still dressed for bed as Jaime relayed the story of what had unfolded in your chambers. It was at that moment Cersei came through the door, looking rather dazed and tired and yet quite apprehensive, her voice a little groggy, "What's going on in here?" As she finished speaking, her eyes followed the guards as they moved Meryn's body from the room.

King Tommen turned to his mother, "Someone has tried to kill Lady (YN)... But luckily, Uncle Jaime came by just in time."

Pulling her gaze from the knight's body, she returned it to her son, her features less dazed than just a moment ago, "Someone...? I think it's safe to assume that 'someone,' was Ser Meryn."

Tommen stuttered a moment, the young king feeling out of his depth, "W...well, yes, but he...he was meant to poison her while she slept, but thankfully, she woke up before he had the chance." Dropping his eyes to the ground Tommen's expression grew awkward as he continued, "Meryn... told her that someone of importance wanted her dead... and that while she was awake he might as well have a... a little fun first." Looking back up to his mother, he added, "That's when Uncle Jaime arrived... just before he was about to... to" The sweet boy couldn't say it out loud, instead he pointed to the vial that still laid broken on the floor, "They found the poison... the bottle is over there." Jaime watched as Cersei took a visible breath, her features holding just a hint of confusion, Tommen noticing that something wasn't quite right, "Mother, are you okay..? You don't look so well."

Cersei gave her son a small smile, "I'm fine... my sweet child. I'm just tired and have a little headache." Then taking another deep breath... she straightened her back, not even daring to look at you or her brother, "Well, if someone is after Lady (YN)... you should assign her a personal guard... at least until we find out who is behind all of this."

Clearing his throat loudly, Jaime took your hand and guided you to your feet, "Your Grace..?" Turning his attention to his uncle, Tommen gestured for him to continue, his eyes noticing how Jaime wrapped his arm around the small of your back and pulled you into his side. "I have been meaning to come and ask for your blessing to leave the Kingsguard... Lady (YN) and I have been seeing each other for some time now... and I have asked her to marry me." Jaime's eyes flickered to Cersei, her face was emotionless, but her hands were in tight fists at her side and when he spoke again, he could feel the pure anger and jealousy roll off her and fill the room between them. "But now... after this... I fear for her safety... and I ask if you will grant us permission to leave today... for Casterly Rock."

The young king nodded his head, taking a quick glance in Cersei's direction, clearly uncomfortable by her silent but somehow irate and telling disposition. And Jaime knew that even as young and innocent as he was, he suspected something was amiss with his mother's reaction. And Cersei knew it too, keeping still and quiet in the background. Clasping his hands together in front of himself the boy nodded his head again, trying to sound much older and wiser than his young years, "Yes... I think that would be wise... As of today Ser Jaime, you are relieved of your duty as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard... free to leave Kings Landing and marry whom you please."

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Jaime stood at the edge of a small field on an absolutely glorious day. The sun shone warm in a cloudless and rich blue sky and a gentle breeze kissed refreshingly at his cheeks, but he didn't notice any of it... he only noticed you. There you sat in the middle of the field, leaning against the beautiful old oak he remembered from his childhood, its branches perfectly formed for climbing. The tree and the beautiful lush grass underneath had quickly become your favourite spot in all of Casterly Rock and he would often find you there taking some well-earned respite from your busy duties as the Lady of Casterly Rock. A role which you had slipped right in to with ease, finding you well-liked and loved by the household workers and surrounding residents alike.

A smile caught the corner of Jaime's lips as he took a deep and satisfying breath. The air was so much cleaner and fresher here than King's Landing and he couldn't remember ever feeling as happy or more content than he had in the past year. As his feet began closing the distance between you, his gaze travelled to the end of your arm, resting gently within the small cane bassinette at your side, your hand undoubtedly placed lightly upon his sleeping babe just inside. A brand new life, just a few months old... completely helpless and fragile... and yet a life that had completely stolen his heart from its very first breath... A brand new life created by you and him... to carry his name... and to love and cherish just as a father should... A child he could finally call his own.

As he neared, his footsteps rustled in the grass, the sound reaching your ears to announce his arrival. Lifting your eyes from the pages that rested in your lap, you followed the sound of his feet and the smile you greeted him with as you took in his face was a smile you reserved only for him. The sight of it never failing to deliver a rush of contentment around his body... gods, it made him feel like the luckiest and most blessed man to ever exist. Reaching your side he sat down in the grass, greeting you with a tender kiss, before leaning across and brushing his fingertips upon the soft and silky hair of his sweet babe, his touch ever delicate and loving. Never knowing he was capable of feeling or expressing such tenderness and affection, but ever thankful that you and his little boy were the ones to show him how.

Never knowing he was capable of feeling or expressing such tenderness and affection, but ever thankful that you and his little boy were the ones to show him how


	37. Northern Nights (Tyrion Lannister x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Just a sweet little moment between you and your husband, taking place a year or so after the fiery inferno of the King's Landing battle.
> 
> Word count:1403
> 
> Warnings: None really. Brief mention of passed family.
> 
> A/N: Okay, so this was sort of a request. I asked what you guys would like to see more of and one lovely anon answered, asking for more Tyrion. So here you go.
> 
> Any feedback or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.

Taking care not to wake you, Tyrion laid quietly down beside your sprawled out body. Pulling up the thin blanket with feather-light fingers, he made sure to cover your naked form. It had been a hot and muggy day, which in turn made for a warm and stifling night, but the breeze filtering in through the window was finally starting to cool the chamber down and he didn't want you to wake with a chill. Over the years, he had spent a lot of time in King's Landing and he had grown quite accustomed to the hot stuffy days... But he didn't think he would ever grow used to waking up beside you. Every morning, he would open his eyes and see you... feel you snuggled up beside him and it never grew old... he would never ever grow tired of it... and still, even after a whole year of marriage he still felt the need to pinch himself... just to make sure you were real and not caught up in some blissful dream.

Since returning to the capital, his life as the hand of the new King in the newly rebuilt Red Keep was a far cry to his previous time serving in the position. It certainly hadn't been easy, there was a whole city to rebuild, untrusting civilians to win over and a new royal household to reappoint... But then there was you... You made all the hard work and late nights bearable. And he knew he could return to the Tower of the Hand each and every night to find you safe and well, never having to burden himself with the worry of keeping you safe.

Besides all that, it was you that kept him sane throughout the entire appointment. Without your sweet smile, adorable laugh and perfect cuddles, he doubted he would have surfaced so intact from the grief of Jaime's death. As the daughter of a Northern Lord, you had endured your fair share of grief too, with all of your immediate and most of your extended family dead, either as a result of the red wedding or the Battle at Winterfell. And he was left amazed by your strength and courage and your endless ability to keep joy in your life, even when the world was excessively cruel to you. Just how you did it, he would never know, but he found great comfort and relief that you could because if there was one thing he could simply not tolerate, it was sadness and tears in your beautiful (EC) eyes.

Unable to help himself, he reached across and softly kissed your shoulder, cursing quietly when his contact made you stir, but as a soft groan of annoyance left your lips, Tyrion chuckled silently... even when you were grumpy you were adorable. Rolling over, you kicked off the light blanket he just covered you with and the moonlight filtering in through the open window shimmered off your bare skin in the most stunning way, the sight creating a vision of himself running his hand up along the soft curves of your side. But that image quickly faded with amusement when you mumbled... mostly incoherently... something to do with the blanket and the fiery depths of hell, all entwined with some very unladylike language. Chuckling a little louder now, Tyrion watched as you rubbed your hands across your face, before turning your whole body to face him, squinting your sweet eyes in an effort to focus. Still half asleep you pushed playfully against his chest, "What's so amusing, dear husband?"

Ahh... those two words, 'dear husband'... you said them all the time, and still, it never failed to sound like the loveliest melody, even when you spoke them in your current grumpy tone. "You, my dear wife... you are amusing. The language one little blanket can pull from your sweet lips... is really quite astounding... I'm sorry my love, I only covered you up so you wouldn't catch a chill."

Rolling onto your back, your fists lightly hit the mattress, "Ugh... a chill..? In here? You can't be serious... You do know I'm from the North, don't you..? and not just the North... I'm from north of the North." Sitting up, you kicked the blanket right off the side of the bed, "What I wouldn't give for a cold northern night, to lay in a bed piled high with furs as flames crackle away in the fireplace." Placing your hand back on his chest, you gently pushed him to the mattress, your whole body hovering over his, your lips so close to his mouth that when you whispered, the heat of your voice ticked his nose. "And even with all the furs and the fire, I would still need the warmth of your body to keep away the cold."

Tyrion swallowed thickly, your closeness had him losing his train of thought. After all the countless times he had spent with whores, he always thought he would hold more control with you, but no, you never failed to have him reacting like a young and inexperienced fool. And now... since you, there was not a single whore or woman in the entirety of existence that could hold a candle to you... or make him feel loved and wanted in the way that you did. But not tonight... tonight your cruel and wicked streak had come out to play... leaving him a hopeless mess beneath you. With barely any contact, you ran your plump lips across his, all the way along his jaw to his ear, whispering your cruel words of torture, "You know... I could show you exactly how I would keep myself warm... how I would keep you warm." Tyrion breathed deeply, his head nodding at your inviting offer, as you slowly and enticingly moved your lips back to his, teasing him with a kiss. Yet, before he even had time to lose his hands in your hair, you pulled away and flopped onto your back once more, your voice expertly losing all of it's inviting appeal, "But unfortunately, we are not in the North, are we..? We are here, where it's hot and sweaty... and completely unsuitable for any kind of physical contact."

Turning your back to him you laid on your side, your whole body taking forever to adjust itself into the mattress, and he knew you did it to torture him just that little more... gods how he loved that back. With an exaggerated sigh, Tyrion leaned up on his elbow, taking in every inch of your smooth skin, his voice now holding a teasing tone. "You're a cruel woman, Lady Lannister." Tyrion watched as your body shook slightly, the sound of the sweetest giggle reaching his ears. Moving across the bed he leaned up against you, brushing away the hair from your neck, this time it was his turn to whisper against your ear, "I'm not sure if I'll take you along after all..."

Your sweet giggles faded as you spun around to face him, confusion, intrigue and suspicion just detectable in your eyes under the soft glow of the moonlight, "Take me..? Take me, where?"

Tyrion answered with a flippant tone, his eyes drifting to the ceiling, "The King... he asked me to go to Winterfell to meet with Queen Sansa... to personally hand-deliver our gift to welcome the new Prince."

Grabbing his face, you eagerly planted a quick kiss to his lips, "Really? Please tell me you're not joking... when, when are we leaving?"

Wrapping his fingers around your wrists, he moved your hands from his face, kissing them before holding them against his chest, "Well, I'm leaving next week... and I hear they're having a bit of a cold spell at the moment... apparently it's even been snowing."

With a small sigh, you suppressed your excitement and raised your brows, your expression adorably dismissive as you gave your shoulders a little shrug. "Well, it is a pity I can't come, the chambers are frightfully cold at Winterfell... you could freeze there without me to keep you warm."

Rolling onto his back, Tyrion placed his hands behind his head, as if seriously contemplating not taking you, before sighing and turning his head in your direction. "Hmmmm... I guess you could persuade me to take you along. But first, let's start with a little demonstration on just how you intend to keep me warm."


	38. Theon Greyjoy encountering you, a mermaid, would include:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested over at my Tumblr blog (Fallatyourfeet)
> 
> Anonymous said:
> 
> Could you do something with Theon and a mermaid s/o? It seems very fitting and cute 🥺👉👈
> 
> A/N: I never would have thought to write this without being asked, so thank you lovely anon. Hope you like it. I got carried away too, it might as well have been a one-shot, it's practically a short story in dot form - whoops.
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of a naked body (It is about a mermaid after all).
> 
> Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.
> 
> ***********************************************************************************************************

• At first Theon thought he had drunk too much... that his bleary eyes were playing tricks on him... that it was too dark to know for sure. The splash in the water, right on the starboard couldn't have possibly been what he thought.

• Mermaids were just legend... a mythical creature only ever seen by drunk loveless men, who spent far too many lonely months out at sea.

• When he first saw you, he could only conclude you were some poor woman that had somehow managed to survive a shipwreck... caught in the middle of the ocean all alone.

• But he knew that was ridiculous, no one could survive out in those waters... and then you disappeared under the water before he could properly lay his eyes on you.

• Almost dismissing himself as crazy, he ran to the edge of the ship, catching just a glimpse of the most beautiful turquoise scales. Saw them shimmer and reflect the moonlight for the briefest of moments before disappearing under the water's surface.

• For three whole days and nights, he caught glimpses of you and he thought he was going mad, thought he was lying somewhere in the hull of the ship, sick with fever and caught in a state of delirium.

• But on the fourth night... everything changed.

• The moon was bright and full, and Theon stood at the bow of the ship, his elbows resting against the rail, his thoughts a million miles away as he watched the ship's hull break through the water. He was so lost in thought, that he didn't hear the pad of wet feet walking up behind him.

• Startling him, came the most haunting melodic voice speaking softly against his ear, "You are Ironborn... yet, you are not like the others."

• Spinning around, his eyes met with you... a woman more stunning than any other. You had most beautiful (HC) hair sitting in waves around your bare chest and shoulders, sending drips of saltwater running down your shimmering skin.

• Your hypnotic (EC) eyes, looked at him curiously, sending all coherent thoughts from his head, leaving his mouth in a useless state of silence.

• And you stood before him naked, glorious and unashamed... as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, the only thing adorning your stunning form was a necklace of beautiful iridescent pearls. Noticing with disbelief as small patches of turquoise scales disappeared along the length of your legs before his very eyes.

• When he didn't speak, you took a step closer, your eyes studying him as if he was the mythical creature, "You have salt in your blood, but it's diluted... faded... the Iron Isles have not been your home for a long time."

• Theon staggered back a step, "How... How do you know.. that?

• For a moment you were silent, your fingers and gaze preoccupied with his hair... holding it and studying it between your fingertips. Then moving impossibly close, the tip of your nose brushed along his neck as you inhaled softly, the heat of your breath stirring to life goosebumps across every inch of his skin as you spoke, "I can smell the salt that runs through your veins... but your skin... it smells of wood and dirt and grass."

• The confidence and arrogance Theon normally held, was thrown overboard from the moment he heard your voice, and so it left him standing there like an inexperienced and blushing little fool, incapable of responding.

• But it didn't matter, whether or not you knew it... you had him completely under your control... he would jump into the dark depths of the ocean at that very moment if you asked him.

• He would let himself drown, if the legends were true... he would happily let you take him down to the watery halls of the Drowned God... to live there for eternity with you by his side.

• And when you spoke again, your words had the heavy thumps of his chest ripple to every edge of his body, "I want to kiss you... I have never kissed a land dweller before."

• Pressed up against the rail of the ship, you pushed your naked body against his... and it felt so good he could hardly breath... your lips soft, but eager as they worked against his own.

• With his head lost in the touch of your lips, his instincts took over, his hand tangling among the lengths of your hair as his other reached firmly around your waist, holding you tight.

• Never had any woman, paid whore or otherwise, made him feel what you did with that single kiss. But it ended far too soon, leaving his lips burning for more.

• Taking a step back from him, you smiled softly, the moonlight illuminating your features in the most perfect way... 'Gods, you were breathtaking.'

• And he couldn't help but think of those old legends again... about the Grey King who took a mermaid as a wife... Imagined himself as the King of the Island Isles, with you by his side.

• But with his next breath, he heard the voices of shipmates... their voices growing louder as they reached the surface of the deck... his panic taking hold as he searched for somewhere to hide you.

• Wrapping his hand around the hilt of his sword, he went to pull it from its sheath... but you stopped him with a calm and steady hand.

• Reaching for your necklace, you lifted it over your head, placing it into his palm and kissed him once more... and with a single graceful and skilful leap, you disappeared over the rail.

• Lunging forward, he gripped the rail just in time to see your legs enter the water, barely making a splash. But as your legs disappeared from sight the bright moon cast just enough light to catch the reflection of turquoise scales... Turquoise scales that shimmered under the soft ripples of the water before vanishing into darkness... into nothingness as if you had never been there at all.

• With a deep and shaky breath, he looked down to his hand, gripping the string of pearls tight within his palm, before pressing them against his chest... Hoping that they were a promise of your return... that you would soon come back for them... no... that you would soon come back for him


	39. Return To Winterfell (Robb Stark x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: You’re a childhood friend of Robb’s, returning to Winterfell after a long absence and he finds himself hopelessly nervous with anticipation.  
> Sorry about the boring title, it’s late and my brain has stopped working.  
> A/N: This is my first fic for Robb in quite a while. I have missed writing for him... but I’m not sure how this one has turned out??  
> Word Count: 1111
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Any feedback, comments or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.

Robb stood there restlessly, his gaze trained on his boots that scuffled impatiently in the gravel, his empty stomach churning... unsure exactly why he felt so ruffled... so fidgety, as your carriage came to a stop in the courtyard. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you, his childhood was filled with many fond memories of the times you spent together. There were countless weeks... months even, when you were sent to Winterfell from your home in the south, sent there by your Northern mother to learns the Northern ways of her childhood. She, as a young child, had been taken in as a ward by the Starks, when both her parents passed away, and she loved all four Stark siblings as if they were her own flesh and blood. And Ned must have felt the same way, because every family occasion worth celebrating, whether it be a feast, wedding or nameday, your mother was always included at the top of the guest list.

Careful to see that no one was watching, Robb quickly ran his fingers through his mess of auburn locks, wondering if he felt so nervous because this was the first time he had seen you in six whole years. You were both one and ten... just young children, when your carriage left Winterfell’s courtyard for the last time, not that either of you realised it at the time. Shortly after you arrived home, your mother passed away and the visits dried up, and besides the occasional letter there had been no contact at all.

It was fair to say... even before he reached the age where girls went from annoying and disgusting to fascinating and beautiful, that he adored you. Whenever you were due to arrive, he would sit on top of the gates of Winterfell and wait until your carriage came into view, before excitedly jumping down to alert everyone of your arrival. When other girls would talk their usual girly chatter, he would internally roll his eyes... wishing he could run away to find either Jon or Theon to spar with in the training yard. But not you... he was completely invested in whatever you had to say, it was something about your infectious laugh and smile... your endless enthusiasm, that held the full attention of his young heart. And if something or someone ever upset you, he wanted to pick up your soft little hand in his and tell you it would all be okay... wishing that he was all grown up, just so he knew what to do to make it all better.

Even now, standing there in the courtyard, just thinking about that sweet sad little face of yours, brought a heaviness to his features, finding himself shaking it off with his favourite memory of you. It was during your last visit, when you came bounding uninvited into his chamber, barefooted and still dressed in your frilly little nightgown. Jumping up onto his bed you shook him awake, your voice loud and uncontained, the first light of morning filtering through his window offering just enough light to illuminate your lively features. “Robb... Robb! It’s snowing... IT’S SNOWING! Lets go outside... We can have a snow ball fight.” You had frightened the life out of him, but never had he seen you so excited... so happy, and even as a young boy of one and ten, he found your reaction adorable. Couldn’t help but feel your joy... the sparkle in your eyes, the smile on your lips... it all filled his heart to the very brim. For him, the snow was nothing unusual... nothing he hadn’t seen a thousand times before, but for you, a ‘southerner,’ who only ever visited during the summer months, well, it was completely fascinating and wonderful. And he could still remember with perfect clarity your delighted expression as you hopped across the freezing floor of his chamber, just to peer out the window and watch the snow falling from the sky.

With a deep breath, Robb’s fingers fussed with the edges of his tunic, drawing himself from his little daydream at the prompting of his father’s nudging shoulder. Snapping his gaze up from his boots in the gravel, the corner of his bottom lip was caught between his teeth when his father gestured for him to open up your carriage door, adding with just the hint of a grin, “One day it’ll be your job to greet the visitors through these gates... So why don’t you stop your fussing and open the door for Lady (YN).” And if Robb hadn’t been so distracted by the task at hand, he would have noticed as his mother and father exchange an amused and somewhat knowing smirk.

With his fingers still gripping the edge of his tunic, he took the few steps between himself and the carriage, not even daring to look inside, then placing his palm around the handle, he took another deep breath. With eager, nervous, yet, somehow hesitant fingers, he pulled open the door and peeked inside, his breath lost on the sight before him. There you were fussing with imaginary creases down the front of your dress, your hands freezing in their spot as he opened the door completely. Looking up, he saw you take a visible breath, your lively and stunning (EC) eyes smiling when they settled upon his face, doing all kinds of sweet irreversible damage to his heart. Swallowing thickly, he offered his hand, surprising himself when he somehow managed to string an audible sentence together, “Lady (YN), welcome back to Winterfell... it’s been too long.”

Reaching across, you placed your hand in his, and as he guided you down the steep steps of the carriage, he noticed how warm... how right and at home your fingers felt within his palm. And when your feet reached the ground, he felt reluctant to let go... instead wondering how it would feel to pull you into his arms... wishing it was not improper to greet you with a soft kiss to your cheek. Though, he needn’t have worried. When you pulled your hand from his gentle grip, you smiled. A smile he had always missed, but never realised just how much... a smile that warmed him to his very bones... and a smile he knew he would never grow tired of. But it was your words that you quietly whispered against his ear, as you boldly greeted him with an embrace, that left his breath catching in his lungs, and hope blooming in his heart. “Yes, I agree... It has been far too long... I have missed this place... but most of all... I have missed you.”


	40. Perfect Lady (Tormund Gianstbane x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: You may be a lady by title, but not by nature, leaving Tormund smitten from the time he lays eyes on you.
> 
> A/N: This is my first fic for Tormund in quite a while. It was requested over at my Tumblr page (fallatyourfeet). Hope it's okay, I got a little off track at the start, maybe talked about Jon a bit too much, but I think it helped to set the scene..? Anyway, here's the request.
> 
> Yay! Okay I just have one idea. I was wondering if you could do a tormund x reader where she is a noble lady but doesn't act like one at all, like she has crude humor and will call anyone out on their bs. It's an idea
> 
> Word Count: 909
> 
> Warnings: None really, Jon being a third wheel? If that counts.
> 
> Any feedback, comments or messages are very welcome and appreciated. I would love to know what you think of my little stories.
> 
> \------------------------------------------------------------

"Jon," your voice bellowed from the other side of the half empty hall, not caring who turned around to stare. You had never been the subtle type, you were loud, brash and at times quite crude, and far to clever for your own good.

Your poor noble parents gave up on all the usual lessons a young 'Lady' should partake in, many years ago. They proved to be a waste of everyone's time, not to mention your parent's money. From the day you were born you were impossible to tame, saying and doing as you pleased, not giving a royal shit about what people thought of you. Which is possibly why you and Jon had grown up such good friends, never caring about the sniggers of stupid little lords and lady's when you played and laughed and ate with the bastard of Winterfell.

You spent quite a lot of your childhood there, in one of your parents many attempts to teach you some manners and decorum, hoping that a different approach and a new set teachers might somehow get through to you. But no. The only thing you managed to achieve, was to upset Lady Catelyn. You got along with Jon far too well and she didn't like it. Especially the day she sat you down to give you her unwanted advice, "Lady (YN), you must stop spending so much time with Jon... A young lady with good prospects, such as yourself, should not be hanging around with a bastard."

Well, your response, while true, left her with her mouth hanging open, "Lady Catelyn. The wife of the Warden of the North, should not be so cruel to young boy's born bastards through no fault of his own. Even if that bastard is the son of their husband." And that was the last time you were ever welcomed at Winterfell, though when you left, Lord Stark, who always had a soft spot for you, most probably because you were kind to Jon, promised to pass on any letters you wrote for his children. And that was how you managed to remain such good friends with him over the years. Even during his time at the Watch, many letters passed between the two of you. So when you heard he had left the Nights Watch and taken back Winterfell from that monstrous prick Ramsay Bolton, you travelled there right away.

At the sound of your voice, Jon turned around, giving you a smile, but you hardly noticed, your attention soon taken by the big wild looking man beside him, just as you took all of his attention. His gaze was intense and pleased, and impossible to ignore, your heart reacting with an enthusiastic drum. Studying him a short moment, you guessed it could only be Tormund Giantsbane, Jon had mentioned him once or twice in his letters, and a man like that would be hard to confuse with anyone else. Making your way across the hall, you stopped before the two of them and Jon got straight to work with the introductions, "Tormund, this is Lady (YN), one of my oldest friends. She only just arrived last night."

Tormund nodded his head as if he was finally putting a face to the name. "Ahhh... you're Lady (YN)... I've heard so much about you that I think this boy is sweet on you."

Shaking your head, you scrunched your face a little, noticing Jon's reddening cheeks, but he laughed, not in the least offended by your reaction, "Jon..? No thanks... he's too pretty for me." Then turning back to Tormund, you raised your brow, your lips failing to hide the hint of a wicked grin, "I like my men rough around the edges... big and strong... Real men with red hair and wild beards."

Now, normally such a comment would be met with disapproval, not expecting such brazen words from a 'proper young lady,' but not Tormund. Straightening his back, he widened his shoulders, looking at you with an expression beyond thrilled... the sight of it serving to accelerate the enthusiastic drumming in your chest. Leaning across to Jon, he whispered adorably loud, "You say this lady is unmarried..?"

Jon nodded his head, simply replying, "Aye."

The wilding spoke with a breath, the sound almost incredulous, "I don't believe it." Leaning even closer to his friend, he whispered even louder, yet his attention was solely on you, "I like her... Are all southern lady's so lovely?"

Now, it was your turn to laugh, answering for Jon, who was essentially a forgotten participant in the conversation, "Me... a Lady? That may be my title, but no one as ever considered me much of a lady."

Jon mumbled a few unheard words, amused to see his two friends hitting it off just as he knew they would. Then deciding his presence was a waste of time, he left, unsurprised when his exit went completely unnoticed by them, wondering how long it would be before the two of you were warming each other's beds, betting it would not be very long.

With Jon forgotten, Tormund scoffed at your comment... scoffed loudly and dismissively, watching you nod your head as if to confirm the truth of your words. Then leaning in towards you, he winked, his eyes now eager and inviting, his voice an enticing promise on his lips. "Well then, all southerners must be fools... If you ask me, you make a perfect lady."


End file.
